Closeted
by KennBoKenn
Summary: Four weeks after the yaoi fiasco at South Park elementary, Tweek realises his true feelings for Craig and enlists Kenny's help to move things forward. Tweek x Craig, rated M for language and sexual content. Lemon in later chapters. Read and review.
1. Iced Chai

**A/N: A Creek fiction I've been meaning to write since Oct 2015, welcome to _Closeted!_ In this one, we see Tweek and Craig tryna work out some feelings while doin' some fun and crazy stuff** **together!**

 **I guess you could also call this one a slight AU as the boys are around 16 in this fic, there's no way I'm writing sex scenes for 10 year old boys, I'd get arrested and wouldn't be able to sleep at night!**

 **This fic takes place 4 weeks after the events of _Tweek x Craig_ so just imagine everything's the same but they're teens and it's sometime between the later events of season 19 and before season 20.**

 **Also quickly before we proceed:**

 **THIS FIC IS RATED M FOR SEXUAL CONTENT AND LANGUAGE. THIS FIC MAY CONTAIN THEMES INAPPROPRIATE FOR PERSONS UNDER THE AGE OF 18. PROCEED WITH CAUTION.**

 **I'd also like to mention that _South Park_ doesn't belong to me and belongs to the wonderful Trey Parker and Matt Stone. Thanks for scarring me for life with the _Christmas Critters_ and Mr Garrison's sex change episode when I was 9 on Christmas Eve. Changed** **my world forever!**

 **But yeah, you have been warned, I do like to write about sexy time. But if you're here, welcome and please enjoy a fic two years in the making! Read and review!!**

 **OoOoOoOoOo**

 **Chapter One**

"You're okay with going to _Tweak Bros?_ " Craig asked, his hand clasped in Tweek's. "I mean, you spend a lot of time there, we can go somewhere else it you want."

Tweek shook his head, his blonde hair bouncing around his pale face. "It's cool," he said, a powdery cloud of vapor crawling out of his mouth. "W-we serve cheap drinks on F-Fridays. Two for one on any h-hot or cold drinks, anyone you want."

Tweek didn't mind going to _Tweak Bros_ , after all it was basically an extension of his house two streets over, and spending anytime with Craig before he had to go home for seven to kick off the school holidays was okay by him.

Craig fiddled with a cigarette between his lips. "Warm up, save money and look cute at the same time? Sounds like a plan."

Tweek nodded, tugging on his green scarf that cushioned his cheeks.

The two for one had been a ruse, a lure created by his parents as an excuse to see more of Craig knowing that he couldn't resist a nice drink, and _Tweak Bros_ made nice drinks.

It wasn't like they didn't see enough of him on a regular basis with the sleepovers, movie nights, gaming sessions, hanging out after school and Craig spending nearly every moment of his free time at Tweek's or vice versa.

It had, in fact, quickly become strange not to see Craig on a daily basis.

Craig had eased into becoming apart of the family and Mr. and Mrs. Tweak doted on Craig like he was their own son.

A month ago, Tweek could have never anticipated how big a part Craig would become in his life before the whole _yaoi_ fiasco at South Park elementary.

He had become his whole life, they'd become attached at the hip, wandering through town together, sitting down for lunch at school together, being together always and, for the brief moments between always, his parents talking about he and Craig being together.

But Tweek didn't mind.

Until four weeks ago Tweek had always had to admire Craig from a distance, surrounded by his friends and chatting with the likes of Eric Cartman and his friends, Kyle, Stan and Kenny, albeit always with a scowl on his face.

Tweek could get that, his adventures with Stan, Kyle, Kenny and Cartman had been horrendous to put it nicely.

Tweek had only really kept in contact with Kenny, who he'd grown to like more than the others.

Kenny had a bit of a mixed reputation around town, no two residents of South Park would talk to you about him the same way.

But as Tweek had come to know, Kenny wasn't that bad a person.

Kenny had a reputation for sleeping around and hitting on everyone. Cartman called him the _town slut_ , but Kenny seemed to take pride in this. He insisted that if the town psychopath saw him as being a bigger whore than his Mother, then that in itself was an achievement.

He was widely regarded as sleazy, loose and porn-crazed, and as much as Kenny had come to be his friend, even Tweek couldn't deny these rumors.

Pure and simply Kenny loved sex, he lived for it, it didn't matter what kind. Kenny wasn't fussy.

But the longer Tweek had known him, the more his golden personality had started to shine through.

Kenny never forced anyone to do anything, he never insisted or pressured you if you said no.

He was kind and could take a hit for his friends.

He loved his sister and worked hard to make sure he had food on the table for her when she got home from school.

He lived a pretty shit life, but you wouldn't have known it unless he talked about it, and he talked about it little.

He was an alright guy, and Tweek felt pretty at ease around him, a surprise to the others in his life.

But yes, life had changed drastically for Tweek Tweak in the past few weeks.

Up until about a month ago, Tweek had been an outcast, plain and simply.

Most of the kids who lived in South Park were considered outcasts, violent, cynical, gothic or too preoccupied with other things to pay attention in class, but most of them had fellow outcasts to call friends.

A month ago Tweek hadn't had any friends.

It was definitely nicer, having Kenny as a friend and Craig as someone more.

With Craig and Kenny by his side, the number of people who had picked on Tweek and singled him out for so long had greatly receded.

The bullying hadn't stopped instantly but it had come to a grinding halt within about a week.

Tweek was pretty sure Kenny and Craig had beat some people up.

He remembered seeing Kenny in the cafeteria, sitting with his friends, who had shot him a big, cheesy smile, one of his front teeth missing.

Usually Tweek would have worried about the repercussions, his new friends getting hurt, but it had turned out okay and Craig had insisted he not worry so not worry he'd decided to do.

Craig had settled into the role of pretending to be Tweek's boyfriend very well, if Tweek said so himself. Unlike Tweek, Tweek knew that Craig had had experiences with relationships before, even if none of them had ended particularly well, as Kenny often mentioned.

Four weeks ago, Tweek and Craig had decided to be the bigger people and pretend to be an item for the sake of South Park's sanity. And so far it was going pretty okay. Initially the idea of being Craig's boyfriend and doing _boyfriend-y_ things with Craig had freaked Tweek out.

People rarely showed Tweek attention and to go from being completely ignored by most to having someone hold you hand, tuck your hair behind your ears and pull you to his chest had made Tweek sweat.

But over time, Tweek had found Craig's presence to be comforting, welcome even, something he never thought he'd catch himself saying in a million years.

Tweek started to live for Craig's company, waiting for his good mornings texts before breakfast, rushing to meet him at the bus stop every morning as they headed to school, texting him goodnight and wishing him sweet dreams.

Tweek wasn't sure at what point things changed.

Maybe it was when he started to crave Craig's touch, his long fingers playing in his messy hair as they huddled together on the couch watching _Red Racer_.

Maybe it was when Tweek held Craig's a hand a little tighter, a little surer, dreading the time when he'd have to let go.

Or maybe it was when Tweek had seriously thought about kissing him much to his own shock, even though the very idea turned his insides into jelly.

Many things had come out of dating Craig, and even though their time together so far had been short, Tweek had come to realize a lot about himself.

Tweek had always known he was gay long before he started dating Craig, as much as he had tried to deny it.

Tweek had never been interested in girls and the evidence had surmounted against him the older he grew. It had come to a paramount the year he turned 14, gym lockers, after baseball practice, people hitting the showers and changing out of the sports uniforms.

Craig stepping out of a shower cubicle, his jeans on but shirtless, water droplets glittery like rain on his taut body, as cliché as he knew that sounded.

He remembered skipping class and hiding in the boys toilets down the hall.

It took an hour and a half for him to catch his breath.

Tweek had had a crush on Craig since the fourth grade but _shit_ , hormones worked wonders.

From there, it had gotten worse.

Every time Tweek saw Craig from then on, he seemed radiant, glowing, impossibly beautiful and impossibly unattainable.

But Craig was straight, Tweek knew that.

Craig had only ever dated girls and had adamantly insisted to the Asian girls that he wasn't gay, not like he ' _wasn't gay'_ like he was still closeted like Tweek, but ' _wasn't gay_ ' as in definitely ' _wasn't gay'._

Sure, it had kind of hurt, but it didn't really matter to Tweek anyways. If he and Craig were dating for real, Tweek was sure he'd sooner die of a heart attack then muster up the courage to kiss him.

Fake or not, Tweek was happy with the way things were.

Fake dating Craig wasn't so bad.

Craig was a pretty laid back guy.

Sure sometimes he was quick to judge people but once you got on his good side you were cool.

Being around Craig had been quite beneficial to Tweek, around him his nervousness melted away, the remains of his usually crippling anxiety reduced down to the occasional stammer or some stuttering.

It was good enough for Tweek, it sure beat having sweaty palms and a racing heart at all times.

The only time Tweek felt incredibly anxious around Craig was when he did something unintentionally sensual or extra _boyfriend-y,_ like tucking him into bed or carrying him up the stairs.

Tweek shook his head, trying to calm his pounding heart.

 _Enough about that._

Tweek squeezed Craig's hand luxuriously, his thumb rubbing against the side of Craig's hand. He needed to distract himself. "What you t-thinking about g-getting?"

Craig's hand unconsciously tightened around his. Tweek's chest constricted. _It wasn't helping._ "I'm thinking an iced chai." He puffed a mouthful of smoke into the biting winter air, making sure he blew away from Tweek. He knew how Tweek felt about second hand smoke. "I mean, you guys have that right?"

"Y-yes," said Tweek hesitantly, watching the miniature smoke cloud disappear into the air. He gave a small laugh, drawing Craig's eyes to him. Tweek felt a blush illuminate his cheeks. "U-um, w-w-what happened to warming up t-though?"

Craig removed what was left of his cigarette from his mouth, dropping it and crunching it into the pavement with his snow capped boots. "Dude, if you haven't tried chai, it's legendary." He stuffed his free hand into his blue coat pocket, crossing the road that stretched from the park to the cinema sidewalk. "Between hot coffee and cold chai, chai's the clear winner."

Tweek couldn't help but smile at that. Craig rarely opened up to anyone, usually only to his long time friends, Jimmy, Token and Clyde. Tweek was apart of that circle now.

"W-well we r-recently got a new i-import of a-Arabica c-coffee." Tweek kicked out at a soda can at his feet empty and haphazardly cast away. "Y-you should try it, i-it's nice."

Craig's eyes found Tweek's and Tweek could feel himself practically melting into the pavement despite the presence of winter.

It was nice being close to someone.

This was all still so new to Tweek.

"Doesn't coffee make you jittery though?" Craig asked, reaching into his front pocket and pulling out a stick of bubblegum. "Want one?" He held out a neatly wrapped square to Tweek.

Tweek waved a hand. "N-not for me, th-thanks."

"Suit yourself." Said Craig, unwrapping the square and placing the pink candy inside his mouth. "It's tutti frutti though, the king flavor." He discarded the wrapper into a metal bin as they walked along the path. Tweek could see _Tweek Bros_ just up ahead. "Have you considered not drinking coffee, or at least drinking it less? Maybe you'll feel less anxious. It used to make Ruby anxious."

Tweek chuckled, a thin smile touching his face. "P-please, C-Craig. Me? The s-son of the o-owners of _Tweak Bros?_ N-not drinking c-c-coffee? B-blasphemy!"

Tweek was rarely the kind to joke around, especially considering that half of all social interactions involving jokes and poking fun at himself seemed to result in either people voicing concern for him or people not getting the joke, which was an extremely awkward situation for everyone involved.

Craig hummed under his breath, something he often did when he found something funny and Tweek knew he'd hit the mark.

"Alright, coffee addict," Craig hummed, holding open the café door. With a start Tweek realized they'd reached their destination. "In you go."

Tweek smiled another watery smile and pushed past Craig gently.

He could feel his body heat emanating off of him, his warmth sinking into his skin as his chest brushed Craig's torso.

Craig was so much taller than he was.

He had this expression on his face that Tweek caught out the corner of his eye as he passed him.

It was, _intense?_

Kind of like he was checking him out too?

 _Too?_

 _No, no_ , he wasn't _checking Craig out._

Tweek's hands brushed Craig's shirt as he wobbled through the door, trying to catch his balance.

 _He needed to get a grip._

He heard the café door shut behind him, the bell at the top left corner tinkling to signify more customers.

Not that anyone could hear it anyways.

From outside, _Tweek Bros_ hadn't looked all that busy, but inside it was brimming with people.

 _Tweek Bros_ had become quite popular since the gentrification of South Park and even though better, classier cafes and coffee outlets had sprung up all over town, _Tweek Bros_ had become quite popular with the newer residents and visitors to the newly expanded mountain town.

Also the hipster popultation was huge.

And apparently hipsters loved _Tweek Bros_.

If only they knew Richard Tweak was lacing their coffee with crack.

Craig raised a hand to his brow, almost as if he was giving a salute. "I think I see an empty booth at the back there." He squinted through the crowds of people. He took Tweek's hand in his again, leading them forward. "Come on."

It was a relief to reach the booth, to sit down away from the noise of the other patrons who swarmed the place like insects.

Tweek never would have thought that the coffee shop he'd grown up in would induce his claustrophobia so much.

The place was _packed_.

Tweek's eyes scanned the room as Craig slid into the seat next to him, shrugging off his heavy jacket as Tweek rewrapped his scarf around his neck.

The crowd mostly consisted of families and couples, eating cake and chugging down lattes.

10 years ago, none of the Tweaks could've told you this place would be brimming like it was today.

And the _noise._

That was when Tweek heard a low whistle to his left.

He jumped and cocked his head towards the sound, Craig's hand finding his arm as it so often did now that they were ' _official'._

A familiar voice spoke to his right, but Tweek couldn't see who it belonged to past Craig. " _Holy shit,_ " the voice purred, his words soft amongst the din. "That wouldn't happen to be Craig _Fucker_ would it?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Tweek knew who stood before Craig.

"Hey, K-Kenny." Tweek gargled, leaning over the table and waving an erratic hand.

Tweek was met with a toothy smile, Kenny's freckled hand waving back at him. "And my favorite Tweak, Tweek Tweak." He laughed, giving him a wink. He reached out a finger to poke Craig's arm with. "Fancy seeing you here."

Craig sniffed, batting away Kenny's hand. "Please don't tell me you work here too." He crossed his arms stiffly when Kenny's hand made it's return.

It was only then that Tweek realized Kenny was donned in the _Tweek Bros_ uniform.

The uniform consisted of a brown apron, a white shirt, a red tie, pants and a pair of shiny black shoes.

Tweek was taking some much needed (forced) leave from work in order to spend (dare he say it) _more_ time with Craig, but even after a month it was hard to forget the uniform that hadn't changed in over ten years.

But this made four jobs that Kenny was working now.

 _Four._

 _What more did a kid need to do to get in front?_

He was 16, he should be out in the world having the time of his life.

But Kenny had responsibilities that other teens would never dream of having.

But the uniform certainly suited him though.

At Craig's deflection, Kenny reached over and poked Tweek on the shoulder instead, his grin stretching into a smile akin to the Cheshire cat's. "Unfortunately for you." He tutted, clawing at his apron pocket and retrieving a small notebook and a pen with teeth marks in it. "Now, what can I get you, handsome?" he sung, tearing out a page scrawled in notes and bunching it into his pocket.

"Iced chai." Craig said, annoyed tones overriding his usually emotionless voice.

Kenny scribbled down Craig's order, his pen scratching against the paper as he dotted a full stop so hard that it tore into the next page.

He took a step forward, closer to Craig, his pen twirling between his fingers.

Kenny moved closer to Craig until their bodies were almost touching.

Craig looked ready to shove him away.

"Iced chai." Kenny said, moving closer to Craig still. "And is that with," he paused, bending down at the waist until his mouth was right above Craig's ear. He sighed a sigh of hot breath, sending involuntary goosebumps over the nape of Craig's neck. Tweek could hear the grin in his words. " _Extra cream?"_

Craig pushed him away roughly, Kenny skidding across the floor as he regained his feet, unable to suppress a laugh. "Seriously, jackass." Craig hissed, tugging on his chullo. "Just get me my drink."

Kenny straightened his tie, which had somehow made it's way over his shoulder and down his back, and cleared his throat.

You could see he was trying not to laugh.

"But you do want whipped cream though?" he managed to ask between giggles, pulling his apron tighter to his waist.

Kenny was _really_ thin.

Craig flipped him off in response, turning his attention to a frayed, finger-print covered menu in front of him.

Kenny chuckled in response, taking down some notes. "Sure thing, _creamy_."

Tweek was next.

Kenny's hand found his shoulder and Tweek flinched under his touch.

As he had with Craig, Kenny leant in impossibly close. "And what about you, _cutie?"_ He whispered, his voice low and seductive. He titled his head to the side, he could've brushed noses with Tweek if he was so inclined. "The usual?"

Say what you will about Kenny but most people found it hard to admit that Kenny was anything but beautiful.

Tall and slender with thick eyelashes that fanned his freckled cheeks a little too perfectly, Kenny was a looker whether you wanted to admit it or not.

Tweek heard himself squawk as if from a distance. "H-h-how w-would you k-k-k-?"

"Dude, you've only ever drunk plain black coffee." Said Kenny, all traces of sensuality gone from his face and voice. "Besides," He slapped Tweek's shoulder making Tweek shriek. "You're my buddy! Buddies know things!"

Craig swatted Kenny's hand from Tweek's shoulder who retracted it playfully and cradled his hand theatrically. Craig's hand replaced Kenny's and Tweek instantly felt a little more at ease.

Tweek wasn't Kenny but Tweek knew Craig was giving Kenny his coldest glare. "I don't know why they even hired you." He droned in his usual low tone, his fingers pressing into Tweek's shirt. "Customers don't like being harassed."

Kenny laughed, his slim shoulders rolling in a half-hearted shrug. "What can I say? The customers like it, no shit, they really do."

"Yeah," Craig rolled his eyes. "I'm sure."

Kenny looked at Craig through his thick eyelashes, his blue eyes twinkling. "Riddle me this then. How many times in a week does a 30 something year old in a dead end job get to perve on this 16 year old hotness?" He stuffed the notebook into his apron pocket, striking a provocative pose that drew many eyes. "Why do you think we have so many regulars now?" He added as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I'm _hot shit_ , Tucker."

Again Craig rolled his eyes but this time in resignation.

Craig wasn't shy in expressing how much of a dipshit he thought Kenny was, often and loudly.

But Tweek also knew that Craig hardly considered bickering with Kenny worth his time. "You keep telling yourself that, _McCormick_."

Once again, Kenny shrugged. "Hey, what can I say? I'm just a sex object trying to live my life."

And then right on cue a woman in her forties slinked past Kenny, her shoulders rolled back, her long hair tossed over her shoulder.

There was something in the way she walked, so tall and sensual that drew several more pairs of eyes from around the café with bated breath.

Tweek was sure that if he had been straight he would have found her beautiful too.

Kenny grinned and slapped her ass, his eyes fixed on Craig's.

"Oh!" She gasped with a voice like music. Her green eyes were bright and searching, looking for someone she could point her finger at. Her eyes fell on Kenny. " _Oh_." She sighed again, but this time her voice had change.

Her words seemed lower when she spoke, more drawn out, intentionally hesitant.

She licked her red lips, a finger reaching out and tracing Kenny's prominent collarbone. " _Kenneth_ ," she drawled, her arms draped so tightly around his body that he practically wore her like a coat. " _Sweetie_ , I've been meaning to try some of your apple pie." Her cheek brushed his. She mewled into his ear. "Come take my order?"

Kenny winked at Craig, his eyes finally leaving his as he acknowledged her with a wink. "Be right there, Mrs. Anderson." He sung, a finger ghosting the hollow of her neck.

"I'll be waiting." She purred, tapping him on the ass as she glided back to her table, her overcoat fluttering around her like wings.

Kenny sighed a disgustingly sweet sigh as he turned on his heel and ghosted her back to her booth. "I'll be right back, boys." He called over his shoulder as he was swallowed up by the crowd.

A table of five left and Tweek could just see Kenny attending to Mrs. Anderson through a tiny clearing in the bustle of the cafe.

Kenny and Mrs. Anderson were already getting aquainted. He was practically on her lap as he took her order.

Tweek watched opened mouthed.

How the _fuck_ was it possible that someone could be so over brimming with confidence in all aspects of their life?

Leave it to Kenny to pick up anyone anywhere.

He watched as Anderson pulled a twenty dollar note from her shirt, no doubt from her bra, and hand it to Kenny and Tweek shuddered.

Then again, he was glad he wasn't Kenny.

"And I'm fucking traumatized." Came Craig's voice, interrupting Tweek's thoughts.

Tweek guessed he'd been watching Kenny too.

Watching Kenny's antics was like watching a car crash.

You just couldn't look away.

Craig placed an elbow up on the table, his hand on his cheek, as if to act as a shield against the potential opening to a porno that unfolded in front of them.

"Hope he washes his hands before he brings those drinks."

"Y-yeah." Was all Tweek could muster, his mind someplace else.

He couldn't wait for that coffee, he kind of felt on edge.

Whereas most people tended to avoid coffee when they weren't feeling too hot, Tweek sought it's familiar bitter taste as a means of calming his nerves.

It just went to show how addicted he was to the stuff, he could barely function without it.

Maybe Craig was right, maybe he should quit drinking it for a while and see how he felt.

Tweek quickly dismissed the idea as the very thought of giving up his precious caffeine made him stressed.

"So, you hear that Clyde's throwing a party tomorrow?"

Tweek started, his hands flying into an iron clasp on his lap. "H-huh?" he groaned, his fingers fidgeting against his palms.

"Clyde's having a party tomorrow." Craig repeated patiently, more slowly this time.

For some reason Craig had a shit ton more patience for Tweek than he did for the countless others in his life.

Tweek didn't know why but he didn't question it.

It was nice for someone to not call you out for your foggy-ness for once.

"Reckons he wants to be the first kid to throw one to kick off the holidays." Craig continued. "He doesn't know that _fatass_ is throwing one tonight. But Clyde will be the first who has people actually show up."

"D-don't h-his parents c-care?" Tweek squirmed under Craig's dark eyes. "I-I mean, i-it's gonna be at his h-house right?"

Craig nodded, drumming his fingers on the table. "Clyde's Dad doesn't give a shit. To be honest he doesn't give a shit about anything these days. He's taking Clyde's sister to go see their Auntie two states over, but Clyde can't go. Grounded. Something about not putting the toilet seat down again and disrespecting his dead Mom. Don't know where Clyde equates grounded with party but whatever. Free beer."

Tweek nodded as if he were following but in reality he wasn't.

Tweek hadn't known Clyde all that long.

Clyde had been a familiar face his entire life but that was expected when you grew up in a town where everyone knew everyone.

Craig and Clyde had a bit of a unique relationship, Craig called Clyde a cry baby constantly and they seemed to hit each other a lot but Craig had been the first person to cross over to Clyde's side when he went _a.w.o.l_ during their marathon game of _The Stick of Truth_.

Either way, they seemed to enjoy each others company, even if they liked to complain about each other sometimes.

 _Mostly._

Craig was watching him again, his eyes washing over his face.

He was waiting for him to say something and a pang of urgency unfolded in Tweek's chest. "Y-yeah?" Tweek spluttered. It sounded more like a question than a statement. "I-I mean n-no." He tried again. He tucked a straying blonde hair behind his ear. "N-no, I-I, um, didn't hear about it. A-Are you going?"

This question seemed to annoy Craig, but Tweek didn't worry that he was the one that annoyed him.

Craig rarely got annoyed with Tweek.

Yet again, Tweek never questioned it.

"Clyde's just stopped bitching about the last party I ditched three months ago. Usually I'd say fuck it and not go but he's got the new _Dragon Age_ that he somehow conned his Dad into paying for. Besides, Dad's home and anywhere beats being home with Dad."

Tweek couldn't help but feel sorry for Craig, a twinge of guilt blossoming in his gut.

Although Craig's Dad had come to accept Craig's being ' _gay_ ', Craig and his Dad found it hard to get along at the best of times.

Craig's friends often thought it was because Craig and Thomas were too similar, Tweek didn't knew where he stood on the issue.

He settled on making small talk.

"Oh yeah, c-can't miss out on _Dragon Age."_

Tweek had no idea why Craig was even talking to him about parties.

Tweek had never really shown much interest in going to parties, let alone even been to one firsthand.

He was usually the last person on people's minds to invite when they handed out the invitations, after all, Tweek Tweak wasn't exactly the life of the party.

His eyes flickered back to Craig's.

He was still watching him.

For some reason it made uneasy.

He looked like he wanted to ask him something.

Not to Tweek's surprise but to his anticipation Craig did in fact ask him something.

"You wanna come with?"

 _Oh._

 _So that's what it was._

Tweek was dumbfounded.

Like he said, not exactly the life of the party.

"M-me?" Tweek gulped. His hand flew to his neck, his pulse leaping under his skin.

Even the thought of going to a party with music and people and drinks sent him into a tailspin.

But Craig seemed calm and collected about it. "Yeah, I know it's not really your thing but it'd be cool if you came along." He took Tweek's hand, holding it beneath his on the table. "We could just hang out and whatever."

Tweek swallowed nosily, the lump in his throat threatening to choke him.

Craig was right there, parties were not his thing.

People in general were not his thing.

But _Craig_ wanted _him_ to go.

 _With him._

Tweek felt a blush rise to his cheeks amongst the chaos of his thoughts.

It wasn't everyday you got to hang out with your crush at a party, to hang out at a party where people would see you together and fawn over you.

It wasn't everyday that Tweek and Craig's fake relationship felt surreally real.

A few weeks ago Tweek wouldn't even have considered it for a second but he seriously considered going now.

It was a chance to do something a little different for a change with Craig and for once his anticipation seemed to outweigh his anxiety.

"You think about it, okay." Said Craig softly, his arm brushing Tweek's. "It's tomorrow after 8 anyways so you've still got a chance to think about it. Text me and let me know."

And there it was again, Craig's unfaltering patience.

Tweek's whole body felt warm.

"Order up!" Came a cheery voice signaling Kenny's return and Tweek swore he jumped out of his skin.

"ARGGGHH!" Tweek shrieked, his hand tearing out of Craig's as his arms rushed to protect his face.

No one bothered to look at Tweek when he screamed anymore it was such a regular occurrence.

And thank god for that too.

People staring only made it worse.

A hand patted his head. "Chill _Tweek-ster,_ it's only me." Kenny held up a tan tray that supported two drinks, one of them in a tall glass the other in a plain mug. "I brought the goods!"

"Bought time." Said Craig, eyeing the tall glass that was without a doubt his chai.

"Uh-uh!" Kenny tutted impishly as he wagged a finger in front of Craig. "Only nice patrons at _Tweek Bros_ get drinks."

A deep set frown creased Craig's face. He raised both middle fingers and said between grit teeth, "I'll show you the opposite of nice if you don't give me my drink now, _McCormick."_

" _Ouch!"_ Kenny hissed, rubbing his shoulders as if a draught had just seeped in. He almost spilt Craig's drink in the process. "Ice cold, _Tucker!_ Just like your chai." Kenny placed the tall glass of milky ice tea topped with whipped cream and cinnamon in front of him. "Cream like you wanted." He added, passing Craig a silver teaspoon. "But drinking exotic spice tea cold with all the frills? So much for being boring."

Craig swirled the spoon around his drink until the whipped cream melded as one with the tan liquid. "It's cinnamon and it's iced." He resolved with a shrug. He poked an ice cube that had risen to the top, bobbing around the surface. "And it has ice. Just the way I like it."

Kenny's fingers were already wrapped around Tweek's drink. "Whatever you say, _big boy."_ He placed a hot coffee down in front of Tweek, served in a plain white mug. "And for my _Tweek-ster_ I have regular black coffee. Seems like you're the boring one now." He straightened up, the tray falling against his side. "But what can I say? Relationships change people. You'll never see me in one."

"Tammy, Kelly, Butters." Craig counted off on his fingers, his eyes never leaving his chai.

"Hey!" Kenny scoffed, the tray falling wanton to his side. "Let me remind you that Kelly and Tammy lasted less than a week combined! Hardly a relationship."

Craig sipped his chai. "You say that likes it's a good thing."

"Well, I can't be both the town whore and the devoted boyfriend." Kenny said as he waved his hands about wildly. "Gotta stay available. It's what the people want, it's what Kenny wants!"

"Y-you've dated B-Butters?" Tweek heard himself ask as if from a distance, he hadn't even registered that he'd said anything until Kenny looked right at him.

He opened his mouth to apologize but Kenny threw his head back in a laugh. "Oh no, buddy." He whipped a fake tear from his right eye. "Butters is just really high on my _to fuck_ list"

Tweek groaned, raising his coffee to his lips, black liquid sloshing everywhere.

 _For fucks sake he shouldn't have asked._

Some things you just never asked Kenneth McCormick, ever.

"Dude," Craig groaned. "No one wants to hear about your sex life." Tweek was glad he wasn't the only one disgusted. "Seriously, quit telling everyone."

"Why?" Kenny teased. "You jealous you and Tweek aren't high on my priority list?"

Tweek spat steaming hot coffee everywhere.

"OH SWEET JESUS!"

Craig's arms wrapped around him, the side of Tweek's traumatized face pressed into his shirt. " _Shut the fuck up, McCormick."_ He spat with enough venom to kill a man.

But this only seemed to amuse Kenny. He raised a hand in surrender. "Hey, hey! I'm just saying. One hottie?" He pointed to himself. "Sure," he shrugged. "But three hotties?" His hand motioned in a circle from him to Tweek and Craig. "I'm telling you, three little words." He licked his lips, wanting to savor the moment. " _Ménage à trois."_

Craig's chair scraped harshly against the floor as he leapt to his feet and just like that before anyone could stop him, Kenny was at the opposite end of the room, flashing Craig his biggest shit eating grin.

He passed a young mother and her 6 year old daughter as he made his escape and he took the hand of the little girl who immediately began chatting to him adamantly.

He lead them to any empty table, he and the girl hand in hand her tiny fingers tangled with his.

It would've been sweet really, if he hadn't used the same hand he'd slapped Mrs. Anderson's ass with earlier.

 _"What. A. Shit. Lord."_ Craig whispered under his breath in a dangerously low voice. "Seriously, I'll beat the shit out of him."

Tweek drained half his coffee cup nervously.

Craig would though.

Maybe if he took big enough gulps his shoulders would stop shaking sooner.

He wiped his mouth across the back of his sleeve, eyeing Craig hesitantly out the corner of his eye with a sideways glance.

Craig being mad made him seriously anxious, but to his surprise Craig seemed to let it go pretty quickly.

His eyes fell on Tweek's drink, already almost empty. Big gulps. "Shit," he said, a tone of surprise coloring his voice. "You're already almost done. Holy shit, you drink quick." He snatched up his drink still three quarters full and raised it to his lips. "One sec."

"U-um, C-Craig!" Tweek shrilled in exasperation, waving his hands frantically. "Y-you don't g-gotta-"

Craig swallowed a mouthful of tea, tilting his head towards Tweek. "Gotta get you home for dinner, remember?" He swigged another mouthful of chai. "Besides this place is too crowded, let's ditch."

Within approximately three seconds Craig had almost finished his drink, a feat Tweek could never hope to achieve seeing as he was lactose intolerant.

Craig looked at Tweek over the glass. "You fine to head out?"

Tweek nodded, his eyes on Craig's lips perched on the rim of the glass.

Craig ducked his head. "Cool." He chugged the rest of his drink down, slamming the now empty glass down on the table.

He reached into his pocket, retrieving a _Red Racer_ themed wallet popping it open with his thumb.

To Tweek's knowledge Craig was the only kid in school over the age of 9 who had a cartoon wallet and didn't get the shit beat out of him at recess.

But then again no one wanted to cross Craig.

He went to throw eight dollars into the tab, missing completely.

Tweek shrieked and retrieved the money from under the table, scarred from having been subjected to the copious amount of gum stuck under it.

It was sad to see what an over glorified shit hole this place had become.

Tweek watched as Craig went to add another note, his hand shooting out and grabbing his.

"O-oh, um, n-no, I'll pay f-for mine." Tweek stuttered, reaching for his wallet.

Craig tugged on his searching hand, directing it to Tweek's side. "I don't mind. You're my boyfriend, Tweek, and it's only five bucks." Tweek would never get used to Craig calling him his _boyfriend_ to his face. The money dangled between Craig's fingers. "Let me shout." He slapped the extra five down on the tab, slipping into his overcoat before Tweek had time to protest. "You ready to go?"

"Y-yeah." Tweek nodded, his neck twitching sporadically. "But I p-pay next time."

Craig said nothing but took his hand. He didn't need to. "Come on," that gentle voice, a voice only reserved for him. "I'll walk you home."

 **OoOoOoOoOo**

Except for Tweek's recounting the afternoon events, dinner had been pretty uneventful.

Steak and vegetables with a serving of coffee.

Tweek wasn't complaining.

Tweek's parents chatted amongst themselves about their days, but mostly about what they got up to now that they didn't have to work the coffee shop six days a week like they had most of their lives.

With _Tweek Bros'_ new popularity and foundation as a hipster paradise, Mr. and Mrs. Tweak were free to do as they pleased the three days they didn't have to show up to work.

Tweek wondered if his Mom and Dad had recognized Kenny when he'd applied for part-time, seeing as they conducted all the screenings for any potential fresh faced employees.

Somehow Tweek doubted it. Mrs. and Mrs. Tweak's hours had been cut down to 24 hours a week and they were beyond ecstatic.

So about South Park's newer areas they talked about. Sodasopa, Ctpa, new restaurants and rival cafes, Kenny's house even.

Mr. and Mrs. Tweak were living the life, and they wanted to make sure everyone knew about it.

In between discussing whether _Whole Foods_ had better discounts on wholegrain or gluten free pasta, Mr. and Mrs. Tweak asked Tweek about his day.

Of course, it started, as always, with the usual things, subjects in the Tweak house hold that couldn't go more than a day without being discussed.

And of course that included the classic topic of school.

 _School._

School for one never proposed the basis for a particularly interesting conversation and Tweek wasn't even sure why his parents asked him about it.

Today was the night before holidays, what kid in their right mind would want to talk about school when two entire weeks of freedom were dangling before them?

Like to every other kid ever, school was a steaming pile of homework, budget cuts, evading bullies with at least two years on you and being helplessly trapped for seven hours a day five days a week at the one place you desperately did not want to be.

School was a rat race and you couldn't hope to get out no matter how much you wanted out. But as Richard Tweak had once said _'I don't send you to a free public high school for you to complain about school'_ and Tweek decided to mumble a quick _'i-it's great'_ and end the conversation promptly by chugging the remainder of his coffee.

Then it was onto Craig.

Craig was always a popular topic at the table ever since Richard and his Mom had sat him down at the table those truly unforgettable four weeks ago and his Dad had uttered those six immortal words.

' _Well, we heard you were gay.'_

It took all of Tweek's being to fight down the hideous cringe that dared to scrunch up his face and all his willpower to resist the urge to bang his head hard against the table as he had a month ago when the words had left his Dad's mouth.

At least they had been supportive, Tweek's parents were pretty supportive of anything, and Tweek knew that if Richard Tweak went to sleep at night resting easy knowing he served his customers drugs in their coffee to keep them coming back for more, then he definitely lost no z's knowing his son was gay.

Yep, Tweek's parents gave no shits.

Not like Craig's Dad, who had been a right asshole to Craig when he'd first been ' _outed_ ' by Pc Principal.

Thomas had made it his personal mission to prove to Craig that you couldn't be gay and happy. The whole town had supported he and Craig's been together and, even now, their faking their relationship had been their way of paying that support back.

But being accepted for who you are by everyone but your father?

Even for a kid like Craig who took no shit, it had really hurt.

Craig and his Father rarely got along but even then Thomas was his Dad, he needed that support, whether he was truly gay or not.

Tweek remembered how affected Craig had been by his Dad's blatant homophobia and lack of acceptance and couldn't help wondering to himself at the time if Craig was actually gay, he'd been that affected by it.

He couldn't help but consider if he'd lied about being straight, like Tweek had flat-out in an attempt to shake the rumors and stay closeted a little while longer.

South Park had changed and it was hard to forget that it was no longer the conservative, homophobic, racist town that it had once been, marginalizing itself from the rest of the world, a tiny stretch of houses dotted along a one way road out in the middle of nowhere.

Even then, it'd been nice to not be the center of attention for so long.

Tweek wished he could go back to that, back to his sexuality being his, and only his, business.

He was in way too deep now, the only reason Craig was cool with being his boyfriend was because Craig thought he was straight.

And Craig was most probably straight too.

Tweek talked about Craig a little, relaying the events that had unfolded at the café but leaving out a few choice details. (He swore he'd never get the image of Kenny in Mrs. Anderson's lap out of his head.)

Noting his tight lips on the subject of Craig but deciding that Tweek's levels of distress weren't dire enough for it to be considered something of concern, Mr. and Mrs. Tweak moved onto their next favorite subject that rolled around four times a year at the end of each school term.

"So Tweek," munched Mr. Tweak between a mouthful of carrots. "Got anything planned for the holidays?"

Tweek thought about it.

So far no, he rarely planned out his holidays.

But there was the house party at Clyde's if he so chose to go.

' _Not if you count your son as considering going to a house party overflowing with alcohol and horny teenagers a plan for the break.'_

The moment he thought it, Tweek was glad he hadn't accidentally said the words aloud as he so often did in these kinds of situations.

He could feel both his parents' eyes trained on him, waiting.

He shakily stabbed a green bean with his fork and placed it between his lips. "U-um, not r-r-really." He managed after he swallowed the bean, the mush like ashes in his mouth. "M-maybe h-hanging out with C-Craig-g. The usual."

This seemed to please his parents.

His Dad nodded in approval, his Mom's face lit up in a smile.

Richard's eyes flickered to Tweek's empty mug, sitting forgotten above his plate.

"He's out of coffee, dear."

Mrs. Tweak pushed out her chair, grabbing the coffee pot from the center of the table.

To any other family having coffee at seven at night would probably be considered at least a little bizarre.

To the Tweaks, this was normal.

She sauntered to his side, taking the mug and pouring a long stream of black liquid into it's previously empty contents. "Here you are, sweetie." She said sweetly, patting his head affectionately before returning to her seat.

Tweek took a deep sip from the mug, the warmth from the espresso inside seeping through his fingers. "T-thanks, Mom."

This wasn't unusual.

For whatever reason Tweek's parents seemed to reward him whenever he talked about Craig or being gay.

Usually it had been money but upon suffering a miniature financial crisis after they had somehow given Tweek almost 500 dollars over the course of three weeks, Mrs. and Mr. Tweak had decided to switch out to free coffee refills.

And there was never a shortage of coffee in the Tweak house.

"Nothing else?" This time it was his Mother who spoke, buttering a slice of bread for herself.

Suspicion peaked in Tweek's chest.

"N-no, why?"

His mother and father exchanged a look.

Not a ' _well, how the fuck do we tell him?_ ' kind of a look, but a look nevertheless.

Tweek's eyes shifted rapidly between them, he could feel his heart rate increasing.

 _Why the fuck were they hesitating?_

This pregnant pause was killing him.

 _Pregnant pause._

 _Pregnant?_

 _Were they having another fucking baby?_

His Dad cleared his throat before Tweek had any more time to weigh his options. "Well son," he began. _Holy fuck, they totally were._ "Your Mom and I have been thinking," Babies were germ factories and _assholes_ , if he even mentioned the word ' _baby_ ' Tweek was 100% sure he was going to faint. "And we want to take a trip."

Tweek was so underwhelmed by the statement that for the first time in days his mind blanked.

"W-what?"

 _So no baby?_

"With _Tweek Bros_ basically running itself we can take that overseas trip we've always wanted to take." His Mom spoke with an excitement Tweek hadn't heard out of her for years. It wasn't that Mrs. Tweak hated her life, she just didn't lead the most interesting one. "We haven't left South Park since our honeymoon." She turned back to Richard. "Where was it again, honey?"

Richard chewed on a cube of steak. "Utah."

"Oh," Mrs. Tweak gasped to herself softly. "I'm sorry."

Richard shot her a look but was quick to disregard her. "Your Mom and I could use some much needed vacation time, South Park's become so lively lately and sometimes you just need to get away from it all." Richard cut into his steak with a calculative hand, another perfect cube heading towards his mouth. "I mean, you can understand where I'm coming from, right son?"

It sure beat having another baby but to be honest, he didn't.

Tweek's Mom and Dad rarely set foot in _Tweek Bros_ anymore, four days a week tops.

Their whole lives had become a series of decisions on where to eat next in the fancier part of town.

The biggest concern in their lives now was whether to splurge on almond milk or try the cheaper alternative rice variety from _Whole Foods_ , unlike when Tweek was in 3rd grade and his Mom and Dad had faced the closure of _Tweek Bros_ for good thanks to bigger corporate companies.

Tweek nodded.

"W-where d-do you t-think you're g-gonna go?" He asked, and tried to appear at least a little interested.

It was hard to when he already knew his parents were thinking of a way to tell him he wouldn't be accompanying them.

Tweek didn't fare well with travel.

"Maldives." Mrs. Tweak piped up from her end of the table. "Nice and tropical."

"Yeah," Richard sighed contently as if he were already living it up in paradise. "White sandy beaches, palm trees, cocktails, our hands are tied son, we're sold."

Tweek bobbed his head. "T-that sounds nice. Y-you guys are g-gonna have a great time."

He didn't have to look up to see the expressions of relief gracing his parents faces.

To be honest, Tweek didn't want to go.

Too many stresses, too many stimuli.

He much preferred the familiarity of South Park as shitty as it could be.

Richard reached over and touched the back of Tweek's hand, who shied away from the touch. "You sure you're okay with it, kiddo? Usually you don't take these things too well."

By not taking it too well Tweek knew he meant staying home alone.

The potential of home invasion, the house burning down, getting murdered or signing for parcels, Tweek had a bit of a history with house sitting.

But this time was different.

He had Craig.

"Y-yeah, Dad. You and Mom go enjoy a h-holiday together. C-Craig and I can h-hang out while you're g-gone."

"More potatoes, sweetie?" Asked Mrs. Tweek right on cue, a silver pot filled with creamy mash between her hands as if it had manifested out of thin air.

Tweek gave a light shake of his head, the momentum only interrupted by a brief groan. "N-no thanks, I'm gonna go to b-b-bed." He was tired and he didn't really want to talk about the Maldives much.

"At 7:30, son?" Said Richard, checking his watch.

"You sure you're alright, sweetie?" Asked his Mom, tentatively twirling a wooden spoon between her fingers.

"Y-yeah, urgggggh," Tweek was cut off with a moan. "J-just really t-tired. S-school and all." And to be honest, he was definately ready for bed.

Richard nodded and motioned to the stairs. "Alright, buddy. Head up to bed."

Tweek nodded, pushing out his chair, the oak wood scraping against the floor.

Mr. Tweak waved a hand as Tweek went to grab his half empty dinner plate. "We'll get the dishes, Tweek. You're fine to go."

Tweek's eyes fell on the still huge pile of carrots and buttered slice of bread untouched on his plate.

Usually it was a standard rule that he couldn't leave the table until he finished everything on his plate.

Tweek decided not to push it any further.

He ascended the stairs two at a time, making his way to the bathroom where he promptly brushed his teeth with a quivering hand, his neck ticking so badly that he almost spat the suds in his mouth directly onto the bathroom floor.

He didn't know why he was so jittery but he seemed to be all over the place as he readied himself for bed.

Maybe it was because Craig's proposition of him coming to Clyde's party with him was nagginf at the back of his mind.

He should really get back to Craig tonight, as nervous as that made him feel.

He didn't even know if he wanted to go.

Not bothering to shower, Tweek rinsed his mouth out with some purple _Listerine_ and sauntered into his bedroom, changing out of his day clothes and into a pair of space pajamas that Craig had bought for him their second week together.

Changing took twice as long as usual, Tweek unable to stop his fingers from fumbling.

When he finally crawled into bed and wrapped himself under the covers Tweek breathed a quick sigh of relief.

Not that the relief would last long anyways.

Pulling his phone from his bedside table (that he'd forgotten to take to school with him this morning, rest in peace), he clicked the screen open with a trembling finger, the light illuminating his sunken face.

He squinted into the harsh light, his sleep deprived eyes blinking as he read the notification that graced his screen.

" _Kenny McCormick?"_ Tweek whispered to himself shakily, unsure himself.

His heart thudded painfully, he was seriously feeling on edge.

Now he had to read a message from Kenny too.

Tweek pulled himself into a sitting position in bed, his back propped against the wooden headboard, his feet sticking out under the covers.

He held his phone in his clammy hands, he was shaking like a leaf.

What could Kenny possibly want?

 _How did he even get his number?_

Kenny may have been Tweek's friend but Tweek rarely gave out his number to anyone.

Too many potential serial killers.

Especially in South Park.

Tweek ran an agitated hand through his hair.

He had started to sweat now, maybe he should have taken that shower.

 _Was Kenny coming onto him?_

Kenny was a good dude but Kenny also enjoyed a good fling.

But Kenny wouldn't do that right?

Kenny knew he was in a relationship.

What if Kenny knew the truth, that he and Craig weren't in a relationship and faking it for the whole town?

But how could he possibly know?

Unless himself or Craig had told him themselves there was no way he could possibly know that the whole gay lovers thing was a ruse.

Tweek gulped, his heart galloping in his chest at what felt like a million miles per hour.

Deep down inside somewhere in his overwhelmed being, Tweek knew he was overreacting, but he was seriously freaking out, he felt like he was going to have a heart attack any second.

 _Kenny, Kenny, Kenny._

He couldn't take it anymore.

What was it that Craig had told him to start implementing, to start trying during a recent lunch break?

 _Facing his fears?_

But facing his fears was out of the question, especially if it involved Kenny knowing the truth.

Tweek stared at the screen flashing blue with a text message notification, Kenny's name illuminated beneath the words in white ' _you have one new text message.'_

 _Face your fears._

Tweek didn't like it, he dreaded it, but he knew what he had to do.

An ultimatum stood before him.

Read the message and possibly die from it's contents (because Kenny was reaching out for him for one of two things. _A) a sexual favor,_ or _B) calling him out on his four weeks of lying to everyone.)_

Or not read the message and go sleepless and potentially have to fight off the underpants gnomes again?

He squeezed his eyes shut, the silence of his room and the house drowned out by the unbelievably loud pounding in his ears, all the blood rushing to his head.

Craig would have to wait, it was Kenny he had to deal with now.

 _It was now or never._

"GAH, TOO MUCH PRESSURE!" Tweek screamed as he forced his finger across the screen.

His phone directed to his _Messages_ folder and opened up Kenny's unread text.

Words could not describe the carved out hollow feeling that exploded in Tweek's chest when his eyes flitted across the screen.

 _It made no sense._

His heart ceased to beat, a horrible, winding breathlessness stealing all the oxygen from his lungs, unable to even cry out or groan because his voice was so caught in his throat.

Everything was ruined, it was over, Tweek wanted to erase the words from his brain, forget everything, cease to exist.

And even then Tweek read the one sentence message for a third time:

" _I know you and Craig aren't really a thing."_

 **OoOoOoOoOo**

 **A/N: Says she doesn't wanna write about 10 year olds doing the sex, writes about Kenny grooming middle aged women instead... Shameful.**

 **Also any of you guys get the _Orgasmo_ referrence? If you haven't seen that movie go watch it! It fucked me up for three days afterwards, it's crazy!**

 **This is my first _South Park_ and Creek fic I've published on the site, you're looking at about three days/7 hours of work right here so if you have any feedback (good or bad I don't care I don't care I love getting emails from _Fanfiction_ ) then please send it my way!**

 **Depending on reception, this will be a multi chapter fanfic so look forward to it! Thanks always! ~KennBoKenn**


	2. The Text

**((A/N: Happy 2018, folks! It's been forever and a day but I'm finally back, guys! I won't keep ya from the story too long, but a HUGE thank you to everyone who reviewed/faved/followed and all of that because _wow_ , this story got _way_ more attention than what I was expecting! I am one happy gal!**

 **So let's hop straight ( _lmao_ ) into it today by saying once again that I do not own _South Park_ and _South Park_ belongs to the forever demented Matt Stone and Trey Parker. I only wake up everyday thankful for their genius!**

 **Age rating still goin' strong with an M rating for EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT ( _which chapter tho, you gotta stick around a find out)_ and ADULT LANGUAGE, but I'm pretty sure we all watch the show here and got over the hurdle of outrageously inappropriate content long ago, so please, proceed!**

 **As usual, I hope you guys enjoy ( _and that it was worth the wait)_ and I encourage you all to please read and review if you're feelin' generous, pissed off, enthralled or have any thoughts you're dying to tell me about my piece! It's thanks to you guys that I'm improving every time I upload to _FF_ , so thank you!**

 **I think that pretty much covers everything, so I'll catch you at the end! See y'all in two!**

 **OoOoOoOoOo**

Whatever dreams Tweek had been having after finally falling, albeit fitfully, asleep came to a crashing halt as his alarm clock sounded from his beside table, an awful screeching wail only rivalled by Tweek's own hysterical screams.

Arms flailing everywhere and thrashing about in his bed, Tweek threw himself to his feet, trying to ignore the sear of pain that shot through his toes and all the way up to his ankles as he landed on the balls of his feet, whipping back around to face the bed, fingers running frantically through his chaotic hair.

Hardly able to hear anything over the ceaseless cantering of his heart and the rhythmic pounding starting up in his head, Tweek raced around to the opposite side of the bed, his legs shaking so badly he was sure they would give away any second with each shaking step.

He hit the alarm clock with a clenched hand, whacking it with enough force to send it tumbling, but thankfully, it didn't.

He didn't think he could deal with broken household items right now.

He nursed his hand as the clock gave two happy beeps before dialling off, the morning edition of _South Park Daily News_ cackling to life as it switched to radio mode.

Tweek's trembling finger shot out almost immediately, turning it off.

He already lived his day to day life way more paranoid than he should be.

No news story, good or bad, was going to make him feel any better.

Tweek gave a yawn, rubbing at his puffy eyes and lifting his arms up over his head, stretching out his scrawny body. He flinched as a joint cracked here and there, twisting his middle and sighing in relief as the muscles roping his stomach and lower back seemed to relax, no longer feeling like elastic bands pulled way too tight.

He groaned as he blinked the sleep from his eyes, looking at the mess before him, his blankets littering the floor, his two pillows lying forgotten on the opposite side of the room, shit everywhere.

Forcing himself to move his groggy body, Tweek reached down to pick up most of his bed, scooping up the pillows printed with _Starbucks_ mugs ( _that his parents would drag him over the coals for if they knew_ _had '_ _em)_ and his sheets, decorated with chocolate croissants and custard Danishes.

Tweek frowned as he made his bed, not bothering to tuck the sheets under the mattress as he fluffed his pillows.

What kind of sixteen year old had _cafe themed_ bed attire?

A future juvenile delinquent, that's who.

Like sure, Tweek had learned to grow accustomed to Craig's Guinea pig themed bed, and even learnt to sleep in it whilst Craig slept on the couch downstairs _(and ignore the nagging fear that the guinea pigs were real, waiting for with needle sharp teeth)_ , but he was pretty confident that he'd rather die than have Craig see this linen atrocity.

Things were going pretty good right now, no need to ruin it.

Tweek fixed the last pillow, surprising himself as he hummed contently, folding down the sheet in a neat rectangle.

But like most of the brief periods of happiness in Tweek's life, it didn't last long.

Maybe it was almost twenty years of sleepless nights finally getting to him, or maybe it was a thought, a teensy, fleeting thing dawning in Tweek's mind that made the tiny smile on his face fall away from existence.

A screech tore from his throat sounding amazingly similar to a dying bird, Tweek projectile launching himself onto the bed, rolling around in agony.

What the _hell_ was he doing?

His arms seemed to have a mind of their own, shooting back out towards the dresser and sweeping across the table top frantically. He sent the alarm clock soaring, for real this time, along with at least three years worth of homework, papers raining down all around him in a worksheet snowstorm.

A desperate growl bubbled from his lips as he was bombarded with nothing.

In no time at all, with a maniacal sweep of his stick thin legs, Tweek found himself on the carpet, belly first, crawling wildly under the bed. He pushed down the wave of claustrophobia that prodded and poked at the edges of his mind, daring him to give in and scream.

But it was over in seconds, Tweek gasping as he gulped a massive breath, not realizing he'd been holding one, as he slithered away from the abyss of unwanted gifts from three Christmases ago, a.k.a _death_ , his phone clutched tightly in his grasp.

Heaving himself up onto his knees, Tweek looked at the _IPhone_ in his quaking hands with wild eyes, sure that if anyone were to walk in on him now and see the state he and his room was in, they'd think he'd finally lost it.

But right now, he honestly couldn't give less of a fuck what others thought, his quivering thumb smoothing over a black screen peppered with fingerprints and smudges.

Because the only thing that mattered, and had ever mattered, was Craig.

 _Craig._

Craig who had invited him to tag along to Clyde's party as his plus one, as his _boyfriend_ , to the end of the school year bash.

Craig who he'd failed to get back to after falling into an exhausted, panic induced sleep after Kenny had texted him the death sentence of the century.

 _Kenny._

Tweek's eyes twitched, his head spinning.

How the actual _fuck_ had he forgotten about that?

Kenny had texted him last night, and it hadn't just been any text.

It'd been an accusation.

A _call out._

Without really thinking about it, Tweek clicked open his phone, tapping the _Messages_ icon with a thumb.

Honestly, he didn't know why he did it as he pressed Kenny's face, surrounded by his trademark orange parka and a blue speech bubble, but he watched as the screen redirected him to a blank page as the phone loaded last night's conversation.

Kenny was a good guy, sure, but Kenny also had his faults. Tweek had no idea what had warranted him into getting to the top of Kenny's shit list, but if you so much as made the list, you'd know about it. Whilst Tweek had no idea what was happening between them, Kenny was his friend.

Or at least he'd _thought_ he was.

For the most part, Kenny was a pretty friendly guy, approachable.

Hadn't they become close enough over the past couple of weeks to prevent these kinds of situations from happening?

Kenny knew how he got in these kinds of situations. Had he suddenly decided to turn the other cheek and screw him over? To knock down everything he and Craig had been dutifully trying to build up over the past month and kick the story they'd been trying so hard to fabricate for the good of South Park in the teeth, thus bringing a crashing halt to what would no doubt become the facade of the century?

But what _had_ Kenny said last night?

' _I know you and Craig aren't really a thing'?_

But hadn't they made a good show of it?

Made everyone fall head over heels for a tragic love story between two high school boys and how they could never truly be together, only to triumph and wander through town hand in hand victoriously?

 _Hadn't_ _they made it_ _believable?_

Tweek didn't know which side of the fence Kenny was on, but Tweek was _actually_ gayA living, breathing homosexual. A boy that liked boys.

He actually _liked_ Craig.

He'd _fallen_ for him.

And to Tweek, it'd never been a show.

It'd never been some ridiculous play to satisfy the pc needs of the new gen South Park adults going about their heterosexual lives to feel better about themselves.

It'd been real.

 _All of it._

Even if Craig could never return those feelings, and that was okay.

And with that outlook, how could Kenny have possibly known?

Maybe it was something he'd made up, laying down on that mouldy, moth eaten couch his Dad had gotten at the _Dollar Store_ next to his sister, listening to the racket of his brother and parents bickering amidst the sounds of _SodaSoPa_ coming to life as the sun went down.

Maybe he didn't know anything at all, instead gauging his reaction, however he so responded ending up as the truth that would be set in stone.

The _IPhone_ gave a musical _ding_ , Tweek drinking in a screen full of text, a combination of the rare talks they'd had on school nights during exam week and last night's near death experience.

He didn't need to read it again. Really, he didn't have to. But he found his eyes flickering over the nine words for the millionth time, permanently etching them into his brain.

 _'I know you and Craig aren't really a thing_.'

His pointer found the text box, his eyes never leaving Kenny's words, fingertips hovering above the keyboard as it sprang out over the screen from the lower half of his phone.

In a way, he was glad he hadn't managed to reply to him last night amongst the chaos the unexpected text had brought.

Thinking about it, he could've seriously dug his own grave if he had, or at least dug himself into an even deeper hole.

Craig had once told him to take a deep breath whenever he found himself helplessly stuck in these kinds of moments.

To hit pause for a minute and mull it over, to actually consider that not everything everyone had ever said or done was a direct threat or an effort to hurt him, as hard as that was to believe sometimes.

Tweek drew in a breath, counting to five as Craig had taught him, allowing the much needed oxygen to fill his lungs, to expand his diaphragm.

Craig's advice was helpful, and usually it was pretty good in the way that it often did work out if he implemented his tactics.

Sometimes you just needed to turn your brain off and go into auto pilot mode, to not think about anything and throw yourself in the deep end, sink or swim.

Especially when it concerned not only your own, but your boyfriend's wellbeing too.

Tweek didn't know where the sudden surge of courage unlike he'd ever known came from, but he started to type, keeping his attention focused on his words, and not on the green dot next to Kenny's name reading ' _active'._

It didn't take long to write up his reply, but in Tweek's mind, it had felt like hours, rearranging the words a countless amount of times but always coming to the same sentence, the same prying question.

 _'What do you mean?'_

Tweek hit send, a tiny circle indicating it was still finding it's way to Kenny before morphing into a green tick, Tweek's stomach giddy with somersaults.

He didn't even have time to recollect himself as a new message came through, no time to prepare himself for the short and hideously ambiguous reply that lit up his phone like some horrifying beacon.

' _Meet me at Tweak Bros.'_

If Tweek had ever felt the need to spontaneously throw up and pass out in a puddle of his own spew, now was the time.

 _What the shit had he done to deserve this?_

 _For the love of God,_ there was nothing more than he hated than texting.

Although screens provided a much needed safe guard and level of anonymity that Tweek craved in so many aspects of his life, one thing he could not stand was the constant uphill battle in trying to decipher day in and day out how someone was actually feeling on the other end, or if they were even being sincere with their words.

Talking to anyone who wasn't Craig was like trying to diffuse a bomb, like being presented with all these different coloured wires and instructed to chose the one to stop the countdown, but brushed off when you insisted you'd never been to bomb diffusing school.

See, Craig was easy.

Craig was as easy as easy gets, and it wasn't just because he wasn't a big talker.

Craig got straight to the point and told you exactly how he felt. There was no beating around the bush and Tweek was eternally grateful for that.

But Kenny.

 _Kenny_.

The kid could say one thing and mean another and he'd honestly know none of the better for it. Not to mention he usually communicated solely in emojis, sparkles and hearts and ponies and shit.

Kenny was a riddle he needed to crack.

Kenny was the four digit code guarding the safe and hiding what his heart most desired just out of reach; precious jewels and plentiful riches, or rather, in Tweek's case, the solution.

And the solution, be as it may a cold, biting truth, was simple.

He had no other choice than to make his way down to _Tweak Bros_ and see Kenny, face to face.

But if Tweek was being entirely honest, confronting Kenny was the last thing he wanted to do.

Even though Kenny had invited him there himself and was ( _probably_ ) alone at a Tweak family establishment, Tweek couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible was going to go down, or even worse, that someone else may be waiting for him.

Craig's friends were cool.

 _Sure_.

But he knew for a fact that Clyde and Token still weren't that keen on him, and Jimmy seemed like a pretty nice kid, but he barely knew him.

Tweek crammed his fingers into his mouth, biting his nails.

 _Could that be it?_

Was it possible that someone had stolen Kenny's phone and was fooling around with him?

Messing with his head?

Had someone been watching from the side lines for far too long and become disenfranchised with the phony faux romance and taken matters into their own hands, ready to destroy both his and Craig's lives forever?

Tweek glanced back at the phone shakily, it teetering dangerously close to the edge of his palm as his whole body started to shudder, his shoulders convulsing wildly.

In the whirlwind of his mind, Tweek hadn't expected another message to come through so quickly, but one had, a little longer this time.

 _'And just in case you think I'm some robot from out of space or something, Craig hates Italian food. Something only Kenny would know.'_

Tweek blinked in surprise.

Sometimes, it was like Kenny could read his mind.

The theory had actually kept him up many a school night when they were kids, but Kenny's knack for reading people had accompanied him from preschool well and truly into high school, so he'd whittled it down to it being one of his many weird and wonderful talents.

Still, it didn't hurt that he was onto him. He was actually kind of thankful. He could barely think straight right now.

 _Way_ too early for this kind of shit.

Shaking his head as if to clear it, Tweek stared down at the message.

He'd already decided to take the chance and give Kenny a shot. Now he had no choice but to keep the ball rolling, to send him a reply that'd keep him out of trouble but make him seem assertive enough to not take it lying down.

He drummed away at the keyboard. He'd keep it simple. _Real simple_. And it didn't get more simple than seeing to Craig's wellbeing. Even in life or death situations like these, Craig was always the first thing on his mind.

It was a real shame he'd never know it, at least not the full extent.

He pushed the thought from his mind, tapping ' _send_ ' and watching his message transform into a blue speech bubble.

He read his reply with a scrutinizing eye, even though it was too late to tinker and change the message now.

 _'This isn't going to screw up Craig's life?'_

It pretty much covered the bases of everything he'd wanted to say, even though he had so much more he wanted to ask, to quiz Kenny and demand the truth.

But it'd have do for now, at least until he pulled up his big boy shorts and made his way down to _Tweak Bros._

Then the real interrogation could actually begin.

Not even five seconds later, ( _and it really was that quick, Tweek counted)_ the screen was flashing again, Tweek reading his reply greedily.

' _Dude, we've had our differences but I'd never throw your boyfriend under the bus like that.'_

Tweek gawked down at the message, stupified.

' _Throw your boyfriend under the bus?'_

What kind of _sick_ analogy was _that?_

He could've at least used something a little milder, like ' _done him dirty'_ or something.

Even though buses scared the living shit out of Tweek, if a bus was getting involved and it somehow incorporated Craig getting run over by it, you could bet your ass Tweek would be throwing himself in front of it before it so much as got within a hair's width of Craig's personal space.

Another _ding_ , and he couldn't believe he was saying it, but _thank God_.

He was on a serious tight rope right now, but all this talk of buses was really making him on edge.

The message was only two words this time, but it was enough to send Tweek into a panic all over again.

' _On purpose.'_

Tweek heard himself shriek as if from a distance, dangerously close to throwing his phone across the room, but his cell vibrated in his hand before he could muster up the will to do so.

 _'(Joking by the way)'_

Tweek stared down at the screen in disbelief.

Like sure, Kenny was the type to weave this unexplainable, constantly shifting and evolving witty humour into every sentence he'd ever spoken, but what kind of train wreck, emotional rollercoaster conversation was this?

He didn't have time to mull over it as another came through.

This time, it was direct, straight to the point.

More of a statement than an offering.

' _Meet me in an hour?'_

Tweek chewed his lower lip, turning what little options he had over and over in his mind.

' _Meet me in an hour?'_

Now that made him nervous.

Less than sixty minutes to prepare and get a grip before facing what he might look back on as one of the most defining moments of his life twenty years down the road?

It was a losing situation, no matter what he decided to chose.

If he declined, Kenny might seek to confide in someone else, and before he knew it, everyone in South Park and the state of Colorado, possibly the world, would know what they'd done, shunned for eternity and doomed to live as outcasts forever.

But if he agreed, he faced what might constitute as one of the biggest challenges he'd ever been forced to face in his young life.

To confront a kid he'd only just come to call ' _friend_ ' by himself in a situation he had very little control over.

To swallow his fear and force himself into walking down that long, winding road to settling this for once and for all, to Tweak _Bros,_ and take one for the team for both himself and Craig, to finally get some closure.

 _Full disclosure._

Tweek drew in a shaky breath, releasing it in the form of a trembling sigh as the phone threatened to slip from his hands, drenched with sweat.

With Craig on his mind, he _could._

 _He sure as hell could._

Typing as quick as his fingers allowed, Tweek sent off his reply, trying to ignore the sense of impending doom that threatened to crush his being.

If he could at least do this for Craig, then it would be worth all the agony it'd caused him so far.

Hoping he'd sounded half as brave as he was making himself out to be, Tweek read the message.

' _Tweak Bros at 10?'_

He _had_ this.

He _totally_ had this.

 _For Craig._

Another _ding._

Kenny's reply.

 _'You got it ;)'_

Tweek's eyes lingered on the winky face, feeling as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

If Kenny was in a good enough mood to be using emojis, than maybe the situation wasn't as dire as he thought it was making itself out to be after all.

Another chime, marking one last message from Kenny.

Tweek turned his attention back to the phone.

' _And can you be a bro and snag some Pop Tarts for the road? Last thing, I swear. Thanks babe~'_

Tweek didn't even have time to panic, raising an puzzled eyebrow as he reread Kenny's final text.

First of all, _Pop Tarts?_

Did they even have _Pop Tarts_ in the house?

Even if they did, he'd never touched them, considering most of the flavours had dairy products hidden away in their cakey interior, and he'd never been the biggest fan of the sugar hit toaster cakes anyways.

He'd make sure to check before he hit the road though.

Maybe he could offer it to Kenny as some kind of peace offering.

There was nothing Kenny loved more than food.

And also ' _babe_ '?

Tweek shivered.

Getting called pet names by Kenny was enough to give anyone the heebie jeebies, and not the good kind.

But now that that was all over, it was time to start the day. Tweek would get back to Craig later, at least after the strangling fog in his head had cleared. Clyde's party was the furthest thing from his mind, but Craig was patient. He wouldn't mind, as long as he got back to him before tonight.

So, going to see Kenny was on the agenda today, hey?

 _Really_ , what could _possibly_ go wrong?

As soon as the words formed in his mind, Tweek buried his face in his hands.

 _Was he seriously asking himself that right now?_

Deciding he'd had enough phone time, Tweek clicked off the screen with his thumb. He fell back onto his messy bed as the room seemed to come to a still for the first time that morning, Tweek running a hand through his hair. He let the phone fall from his grasp, not even trying to make an effort to stop it from tumbling off the bed as it fell, face first, onto the carpet below.

Tweek hoped for dear life that the floor's cushiony texture had been enough to stop it from cracking, but if it didn't, whatever, he'd deal with it later.

Right now, he felt _exhausted_.

He honest to God felt like every ounce of life force that had managed cling to his being after all these stressful years had been sucked from his body in one fell swoop.

Looking over at the alarm clock, it was a shame it was already nine thirty. He wouldn't mind going back to bed.

Tweek froze.

 _Nine thirty?_

He gripped his chest with a hand as if he was about to go into cardiac arrest any second.

 _It was already nine fucking thirty?_

That meant he had less than half an hour until he had to go see Kenny!

He must've mixed up what he _thought_ the time was with what the time _actually_ was in the hullabaloo of what had just unfolded.

Serves him right, he should've _fucking checked first._

Tweek shot up in bed, the adrenaline hitting him like a truck ( _or like the bus Kenny had mentioned, cause he was sure that'd be a thousand times worse)_.

He screeched, clambering to his feet for the second time that day and bolting to his bedroom door.

He almost tripped over his phone in the process as his hand gripped the handle with an iron grip, throwing open the door, just in time for his piercing screams to reverberate down the hallway and through the rest of the house.

 _"GAH! FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT'S HOLY! SHIT!"_

It all seemed to overflow at once, all the stresses of the morning final spilling over in one unstoppable wave.

Knowing his luck, his parents would just be stirring, his Dad probably still asleep.

His Mom was, and always had been, an early bird, but Mr Tweak was a whole different story, despite being the face of _Tweak Bros Coffee._

He'd never explicitly said it, and whether that was to spare Tweek's feelings or because he knew Tweek would end up in a psychiatric ward if he ever dared to mention shit about it, but Tweek knew for a fact that his Dad despised being woken up by his shrills, grunting and groaning as he rolled around in his bed.

Right on cue, Mrs Tweak's voice sounded from down the stairs, drifting up to his room from the hallway.

"Tweek, honey?" She called, her words dripping in concern, accompanied by the _clank_ of metal brushing metal, a knife on a cutting board. Tweek's neck twitched, his hands trembling on the doorway. She'd never really given a shit about how he'd really felt day in and day out until he'd come out as gay. But in a town like South Park that had changed so rapidly in such a short amount of time, having a gay son was like being presented a badge of honour, and he guessed she'd fallen into the habit of keeping up appearances. "Is everything okay, sweetie?"

Tweek forced himself to reply, even though it was a far cry from what he actually wanted to do, to not reply at all.

All his life he'd been labelled the town schizo, gone everywhere with a big, shiny sign exclaiming _'Everybody look at me, I'm different_ ' hung around his throat.

Now that they had something to blame his odd behaviour on, Mr and Mrs Tweak couldn't be happier, couldn't be supportive enough.

He just wished they'd gotten the wake up call sooner, sixteen years sooner, when he needed it.

His voice was scratchy as he called back, trying his hardest not to cough as a tickle started up at the back of his sandpaper throat. "I'm fine, M-Mom! Just a n-nightmare!"

It wasn't the whole truth, but he hadn't been one hundred percent lying.

To be frank, this whole situation was a nightmare, and if he wasn't smart about it, it was only going to get a whole lot worse.

He heard his Mom make a sympathetic noise from downstairs, grinding his teeth at the sound of it.

It was hard to take her seriously sometimes.

She hadn't done shit about one of the sixth graders lighting his pants on fire when he was four, but now that he'd had a ' _bad dream'_ she was on his beck and call?

" _Awww,_ honey," she cooed, a groan making it's way past Tweek's lips. "Come downstairs and tell me about it! Breakfast is ready too! Toast and bacon, sweetie!"

Tweek had never been one to roll his eyes but the temptation was there and it was incredibly strong.

She was supposed to be his Mom, _right?_

It was like she barely knew her own son.

Toast meant butter, and butter meant milk.

He cupped a hand around his mouth. "Y-You know I'm allergic to m-milk, right?" He hollered back, hoping it didn't sound like as much of a retort to her as it did to him.

But seriously, he felt like a stranger in his own house sometimes.

Mrs Tweak gave a gasp, whatever she'd been gripping in her hand falling a short ways onto the kitchen counter top with a resounding _clang_.

"Oh, goodness!" She exclaimed over the faint sound of footsteps as she fussed about. "You're right! Where's my mind this morning?" She scolded herself lightly, but Tweek cringed at the faintest trace of humour that tickled her voice. "I'll get you something else, hon! But you better make your way down! Coffee will be getting cold soon!"

Tweek felt his oncoming bad mood slip away instantly at the mention of caffeine.

Looking down at his hands, shaking like leaves in a tumultuous breeze, it was no wonder he wasn't feeling crash hot, having not yet seen to his daily addiction.

There was nothing in this world that a good cup of coffee couldn't instantaneously fix, or at least idly distract him from whatever was on hand in a serene lagoon of ebony coloured bliss.

Nothing was unfixable with a tall mug of straight up black to kick start your morning, not even the Kenny problem.

He could feel his mouth starting to water.

Now he was eager to get out and away from this room, and possibly face the many obstacles the day no doubt had in store for him.

"Coming!" He called, halfway down the hallway before realizing he was still in his pyjamas and racing back to his room with a squeak.

Suddenly in a hurry to see to it that he kicked off the day with at least a lukewarm drink ( _because tipping more than two drops of the stuff down the sink was an instant grounding),_ Tweek tore of his bottoms, kicking them away from his feet ( _else they'd become a serious tripping hazard in about five seconds)_.

He tugged on some black jeans, jumping frantically on the spot in an effort to slide them up around his waist. He squealed as the jeans slid speedily up his body after the first jump, dangerously close to almost giving himself the biggest wedgie of all time.

Thank _God_ he had quick reflexes.

He stared at his figure in the mirror.

 _Was it his_ _imagination?_

 _Surely_ , it had to be.

Looking at his lower half and the way the jeans hung off his figure, Tweek could've sworn a few weeks ago they'd been a perfect fit, definitely not baggy when he'd bought them.

Maybe they'd expanded in the wash?

He brushed it off, reaching down to retrieve a shirt with a _u.f.o_ printed across the front beside a rainbow alien saying the words ' _I'm a gay-lien_ '. The fabric was navy blue in colour and not really Tweek's style but Craig had bought it for him as a joke, part of a matching set, and he didn't have that many shirts to begin with, so he couldn't complain.

He looked back in the mirror, the shirt like a tent on him now when a few weeks back when Craig had gifted it to him, it'd fit like a glove.

Okay, so probably not the washing machine, unless it was suddenly on it's way out.

He frowned at his reflection, his pale features creasing up like paper, tugging at some material here, yanking at some fabric there.

Yep, he'd _definitely_ lost weight.

It wasn't a new thing either.

Tweek had been one of those classic sort of underweight school kids at the start of the school year to teetering on the edge of skeleton within the span of a few weeks or months.

The many doctors and health professionals his parents had dragged him along to had watered it down to a fast metabolism, him being a growing boy and that some kids just suddenly gained or lost weight the older they got, thanks to growth spurts and puberty.

But really, he just forgot to eat sometimes.

Stress did that to you.

And it wasn't a overexaggeration to say he was _constantly_ stressed.

He hadn't eaten much last night, but he was sure he had been keeping up with his ' _food schedule'_ that Craig had drawn up for him, because Craig was a good ' _boyfriend_ ' like that.

And he was just talking any food schedule too.

This graph had the lot, like the five food groups with slightly generous allowances for fats and sugars and all kinds of snacks because he was that thin. It'd been three weeks since Craig had given him the food sched and things had been going well, smooth as clockwork.

But now that he thought about it, he couldn't recall the last time he'd eaten before dinner yesterday, only having indulged in a coffee at _Tweak Bros_ that afternoon.

His eyes diverted back to his figure, thin as a twig, eyes sunken in his face and bones sticking out under his porcelain skin everywhere.

He knew Craig wouldn't get mad at him for forgetting to eat, but he didn't exactly want him worrying unecessarily about him either, especially considering he had more than enough on his plate already with Tweek's wild and increasingly paranoid theories on the daily about how the universe was conspiring against him.

Stealing a final glance at himself in the mirror, Tweek turned on his heel, throwing open his closet door as he made his way back to his bedroom door, grabbing the first jacket he saw, green in colour.

It was an odd thing to say, especially considering Tweek had spent his whole life growing up in a snowy mountain town forever encased in winter, but Tweek had never liked the cold all that much.

But for the first time in a long time, he was grateful for it today.

At least the thick woollen jacket would add some much needed bulk to his figure for the mean time, even though it didn't entirely solve his problem.

He'd make sure to follow the schedule to a _t_ from now on.

He glided back towards his bedroom door, hand on the handle as he paused, trying to relax his terse body and relieve some of the pent up tension in what little muscle clung to his figure.

Not even ten in the morning and today had been a wild ride.

Not that it mattered, because it was time for take two.

He opened the door for the second time that day, but in a much more controlled matter this time.

He tried hard not to focus on his dumb ass arranging to meet with Kenny in under thirty minutes as he made his way down the hall and to the stairs.

His hand reached out to grip the rail as he thought, making sure he didn't let go, as he mulled over the ultimatum on his hands, eyes glued to the deep blue carpeted floor.

The walk to _Tweak Bros_ wasn't far. Just down the block with a few lefts and rights, really.

When the place had been built, it had been built very close to home. Mr and Mrs Tweak had made sure of that. Just within arms reach if an emergency so arose, but far enough away so that they could forget about the place and it's whiny, nagging customers until the next day, when they dragged themselves out of bed for the five a.m. shift.

But it was different now.

Tweek was the only Tweak who saw the place regularly now, clocking in at least five days a week, even when he wasn't needed. Someone had to keep an eye on the place, and in a way, Tweek liked that it was kind of like a second home to him.

 _Familiar_.

He almost considered it an escape, a place to get away from his parents and the noise of home life, and sometimes to dodge the kids that came knocking on his door and asking where he was.

Until the place hit ten in the morning, that was.

 _Rush hour._

Kids everywhere, and that included the adults too, some thirty something year old crying for a refill as his kid waved about an empty milk bottle, hollering something stupid.

Which, when he thought about it, was where he was heading today.

What he'd hopelessly, yet effortlessly, gotten himself into in a way Tweek Tweak only could.

 _Great_.

Still having the issue of hitting up Craig and possibly going to that party later and meeting a boy that'd basically blackmailed him during Saturday rush hour?

 _Just another thing to look forward to._

Tweek felt his shoulders droop as he neared the edge of the stairway, the kitchen swimming into view as a vision of activity, Mrs Tweak dashing to and fro around Mr Tweak, seated in front of the table, his mouth split open in a yawn.

Tweek tried not to make eye contact with him as he sauntered over to the table, opting not to greet either of his parents as he pulled out a chair from himself, sinking into it with a sigh of agony.

He looked down at the spread Mrs Tweak had set before him, a knock off brand of chocolate cereal swimming in soy milk ( _gross_ ) beside a tall glass of a freshly blended blueberry milkshake, topped with cream and shards of chocolate.

Tweek eyed the purple drink.

It was hard not to admire the craftsmanship that had gone into making the smoothie, layered with lashings of yogurt and honey. Mrs Tweak had always been famous for her milkshakes, insanely delicious and becoming the stuff of town legend.

Which made it all the more tragic that he couldn't drink it.

Tweek tried not to sigh as he pushed the insanely beautiful drink away from him.

There was hardly a day that passed when he didn't wish he hadn't inherited being so deathly allergic to lactose on his Dad's side.

Every dairy concoction ever was pretty much delicious by default. Ice cream and chocolate and thick fluffy custard.

Every single time Tweek was confronted by one of these delicious items, it was like seeing an oasis in the middle of the desert.

Refreshing and desirable, and very much needed and enticing, but no matter how much you walked towards it, you never quite got there.

 _God_ , he missed cheesecake.

But hey, he was a Tweak.

And if anything bad or mildly unfortunate, was going to happen to any of the Tweaks, it would definitely fall on the shoulders of Tweek Tweak.

Trying his hardest to push down the nagging feelings of resentment towards his Mom for tempting him with such a treat, Tweek started on his cereal that tasted uncannily similar to freshly burnt ashes, mixed with the watery aftertaste of soy milk.

He found himself watching Mrs Tweak as she flitted around the room, chopping up slices of bacon here, buttering freshly toasted slices of bread there as she skulled a creamy latte, yet another thing Tweek missed.

His eyes remained glued on her as she spun around on a heel swiftly away from the oven and danced towards him, placing a small tub of plain vanilla yogurt next to the rejected glass without so much as glancing in his general direction once, too many different pots and pans to see to.

Tweek swallowed the ashy cereal, eyeing the yogurt lid as he ate. He chewed slowly as his eyes traced over a single sentence printed across it's foil wrapping in ink, black and all caps.

' **CONTAINS MILK PRODUCTS'**

His brow creased.

 _Go figure._

He turned his attention back to his cereal, dipping his spoon back into the bowl, only having had about three mouthfuls but no longer hungry.

 _It was like she didn't know him at all._

"Something on your mind, sport?" Came Mr Tweak's voice to his left, Tweek flinching at the sudden intrusion of silence.

Tweek glanced at him from up under his fringe meekly, trying not to meet his eyes, which were trained on and burning into his.

The thing about Mr Tweak was that he was unbelievably good at reading people, despite the ironic fact he knew little to nothing about his own son's problems and life.

Like Kenny, Mr Tweak couldn't read minds, but Tweak sometimes got the inkling that he could, calling him out on things he really should've had no idea about more times than he could count; like his hiding a injured bird in the _Tweak Bros_ staff room when he was ten, and him knowing about it despite not having visited the place in _months._

Maybe he had cameras and microphones everywhere and shit.

Tweek felt himself break out in a cold sweat.

 _God_ , he had nothing to hide but the very thought was fucking _terrifying_.

Tweek shook his head as he felt a twitch coming on, his biggest give away, but alas, something far beyond his control.

If he didn't want him on his case, now was time to say something, and he needed to say something quick.

Summoning his most believable smile, Tweek turned to his Dad, his cheeks burning at the forced expression. "N-no, D-Dad! Wh-why would you-, you-," He tried to fight it, but the urge was too strong, like some unavoidable sneeze. He felt his shoulder muscles sting in protest as his head snapped to one side, a cry tearing from his throat. "ARGH!" He groaned, also drawing the attention of Mrs Tweak, who was rooted to the spot behind the kitchen bench, knife in hand. He was way past the point of return now, but he forced himself to finish his sentence, cringing at how phony he sounded. "Why would you th-think that?"

The last thing he wanted to do was look at his Dad, but Tweek looked at him.

Mr Tweak's eyes were riddled with various emotions, mainly complete confusion to downright disbelief.

He didn't bother himself with looking at his Mom, knowing the same expressions would be donning her face, the same knowing look twinkling in her eyes.

That they'd both caught onto the fact that something was _definitely_ going on.

Tweek sunk into his chair, part of him wishing he was a snail so he could hide away in his shell.

The last thing he needed right now was questions, probing, invasive questions when he was about to run out the door to face an insane Goliath empty handed.

' _For the love of God, please let it go.'_ Tweek thought to himself feverishly, squeezing his eyes shut. His fingers gripped his knees with an iron grip under the table, his knuckles as white as stone. ' _Don't start paying attention now!'_

It wasn't something he'd usually wish.

He'd pined for his parents' attention his whole life

But now was different.

It was the most intense five seconds in his life, but Mr Tweak shrugged, taking a long sip of coffee from his mug. "Well, if you say so, son."

Tweek sunk back into his chair, breathing a sigh of relief and finding it hard to recall a time when he'd ever felt so elated.

Like sure, it was fucking sad his parents couldn't give less of a shit about him even if they got off their uppity asses and tried, but the only thing in recent times that made him feel this relieved was when Craig had ' _taken him back',_ and really thinking about it, this didn't even come close to that.

Mrs Tweak seemed pleased with the outcome, giving a pleased hum as she made her way back to the table, an array of plates placed strategically between her hands and all along her arms.

She seemed to glide across the floor with her forever elegant gait, Tweek eyeing the food as it approached, plentiful and an assortment of many different foods.

At a closer glance, Tweek realized it was a full English breakfast, with sides of fruit and pastry sweets like Danishes and croissants, placed neatly on tea plates and cut into quarters.

He watched as she set it down, eight separate dishes teeming with food that'd make his chores hell later. But Mrs Tweak didn't seem to mind. In fact, she seemed quite pleased with herself as she settled down into her chair at the head of the table, reaching over with some silver tongs and heaping a mountain of fried tomatoes onto her husband's plate.

"Thanks, dear." Said Mr Tweak reaching over the table and grabbing a newspaper, Mrs Tweak smiling her brilliant smile.

He didn't know why, but Tweek suddenly felt uncomfortable, turning his attention to his hands, knotting and unknotting continuously above his lap.

Two parents who'd been stuck in the sixties for the past twenty years gorging themselves on bacon and eggs every morning?

 _God_ , they couldn't get more nuclear if they tried.

He didn't know why she bothered cooking up such a big breakfast every morning anyways. There were only three of them and so much of the food went to waste. Maybe working at _Tweak Bros_ all these years had just made making up big meals a habit for her, but in any case, Tweek hardly partook.

"Honey?" Sounded Mrs Tweak's voice from the far end of the table, Tweek jumping as his green eyes met her's.

From the look on her face, she'd tried talking to him more than once. Not to mention, his Dad was staring too.

"Y-yeah?" He replied, trying not to sound nervous.

They were still pretty out of the loop so far, he didn't want to bring this all crashing down now.

Mrs Tweak beamed at him and Tweek felt his stomach flip.

Sometimes he felt like his parents were robots.

"I said is that a new shirt, honey?" She pointed to his chest with a long finger. "I don't think I've ever seen it before. What does it say?" She peered at his torso. _"'I'm a-',_ what?"

Tweek was on his feet before he could stop himself, nodding a little too eagerly. _"'I'm a gay-lien',"_ he corrected. She'd done it. Mrs Tweak had sourced him the perfect ruse. Nothing was more distracting and all consuming to the Tweaks than their son's homosexuality. "Craig bought it for me as a present a few weeks ago, but I haven't had the chance to wear it yet." He surprised himself as he stuck out his bony arms in flourish, showing off the shirt like he was some sentient mannequin. "It's part of a matching set!"

The desired effect was instant, Mr and Mrs Tweak's faces reducing to mush.

" _Awww_!" They cooed, and Tweek grinned.

 _Score_!

And he hadn't stuttered once!

 _Tweek – 1, his parents – O._

All they were missing was the comical hearts in their eyes!

"That's just swell, son!" Encouraged Richard. "It's good to hear you and Craig are getting along so well!"

Mrs Tweak was smiling from ear to ear. "Yes, nothing sweeter than being stuck in the middle of the ' _honey moon'_ stage." Tweek felt the heat rise to his cheeks. It was one thing to be dating Craig, but already talking of _marrying_ him? Thankfully, his Mom cut over him before he had time to scream, offering him a square of Danish. "Some custard Danish, hon?"

Tweek shook his head, cutting himself some slack and deciding not to dwell on his Mom's forgetfulness.

Maybe it was because talking of Craig was still fresh in his mind, but he was grateful she was at least trying.

"No thank you, M-Mom." He refused as politely as he could. Thankfully, Mrs Tweak didn't seem to make anything of it, smiling and returning the sweet back to it's plate.

Richard was speaking again, his tone light and airy.

Craig seemed to have that effect on his parents, even when he wasn't in the same room as them and probably still crashed out on his living room sofa snoring.

"Speaking of which it's the first day of holidays, kiddo! Are you and Craig gonna be hanging out today?" Mr Tweak asked, putting down his newspaper.

Tweek felt his heart skip a beat.

It wasn't often that his Father paid him this much attention.

Might as well milk it whilst it lasted.

He propped up his chin with a hand, barely able to contain his excitement as shivers wracked his body. "U-um, yeah! W-Well, I hope so. Craig doesn't get up till e-eleven on holidays s-so I haven't asked yet, cause I don't w-wanna wake him up!" He paused. He'd been given a golden opportunity here, a real chance to butter up his parents and possibly call in a favour before they left for the Maldives, because there was no telling what might happen between now and then. Especially in a town like South Park. He lowered his voice, his eyes dropping to the table in what he would've considered the phoniest, most put on act of fake sadness he'd ever managed to summon up. But his parents seemed to be loving it, lapping it up and hanging onto his every word. "It'd be a shame t-too, C-Craig drools in his sleep," he hesitated, blinking his long eyelashes slowly. The stage was set. _The perfect scene_. He glanced up at his parents with shimmering eyes, his cheeks dusted the lightest shade of pink. He uttered only two words, but before they'd even left his mouth, he knew he'd scored a home run. "It's c-c-cute." He stammered at last, hiding his mouth behind a hand coyly.

Mr and Mrs Tweak were on him at once, which was kind of freaky, considering Tweek hadn't even heard them, let alone see them, move.

But nevertheless, as far as putting on a show for your parents went, it didn't get much better than that.

Mrs Tweak's hands were on his shoulders, her fingers squeezing gently into his soft flesh. "Oh, our little rainbow!" She gushed, sounding alarmingly close to tears as she cradled his head in her arms.

Tweek stiffened in surprise.

He would've liked to have said that Mrs Tweak was a firm believer in the art of having a stiff upper lip, but really, as of lately, whenever Craig came into the equation, Mrs Tweak's odds of spontaneously bursting into tears had bumped up significantly from a rare once a year tops to a magnificent six times in the past month alone.

It was horrible to say, but in a way, it was kind of nice, even if it wasn't him she was crying over. He didn't like to see his Mom crying, who did? He wasn't some kind of monster. But every time she did, he found himself reminded deep down that she still had emotions aside from the forever _happy-go-lucky_ make up that she showed to the world.

 _Real_ emotions.

Tweek's fingers were halfway to her hand when Mr Tweak appeared by his side too, yanking him away from his Mother's grasp and towards him, ruffling his hair with a playful hand as he squeaked in protest.

"That's our boy!" He laughed cheerfully, Tweek trying hard not to look too disappointed. If he had to choose only one of his parents to get along with, it'd be his Mom. But frankly, and oh so ironically, his Dad always seemed to incidentally break up these kinds of once in a blue moon tender moments. Richard's fingers made their way down to his cheeks, giving them a squeeze like he was some kind of hamster. "Live your truth, son!" He whistled, delivering a swift slap to his shoulder blades.

Tweek jumped half a mile in the air, ready to get up and bolt out the door, never to return as he started his new life on the road as a teenage hobo. But thankfully, his Mom's hand was on his shoulder again, a mug teeming with coffee hovering in front of his face.

Maybe he could hang around a _little_ while longer.

"Coffee refill, sweetie?" Came Mrs Tweak's voice in his ear, Tweek shivering as her warm breath fanned the nape of his neck.

Tweek felt himself shake his head before he could stop himself, a little begrudgingly, because a cup of coffee would've been real nice right now. "N-no thanks, Mom." No huge loss anyways. He could grab some down at _Tweak Bros_ in five.

He watched as the grown up Tweaks returned to their seats, Mrs Tweak pouring some more coffee for herself before reaching over and topping Mr Tweak up.

Really, considering the amount of coffee they all drunk, it was incredible in itself that they all didn't have yellow teeth.

"You know, it's almost a shame you aren't coming with us, Tweek." Said Richard, once again burried behind his paper. Tweek fought the pang of disappointment that unfolded in his chest. It was like every time they got even marginally close to better communicating and actually being a normal family for once, the freshly torn down wall started to magically rebuild itself again. "The Maldives don't recognise same sex relationships," his Dad continued, a deep set frown immediately dawning on Tweek's face. His parents weren't gay, and that was fine. Like sure, they'd never understand some of the struggles he had to go through just because he'd been born attracted to the same sex, but they knew he was sensitive about these kinds of things. About being criminalized for something he couldn't help. And worst of all, Richard sounded kind of amused. He watched as Mr Tweak made eye contact with him over the top of his paper, his eyes glittering with mirth. Tweek's stomach dropped. _This was going to end in a fucking joke_. "I'm sure once they took the time to get to know you, they'd abolish that silly law forever!" He finished with a wink.

Tweek had never felt a stronger urge than right now to simultaneously cry, cringe and crumble all at once; maybe throw in a dramatic hands coming down on the table and chair screeching across the floor as he thudded up the stairs to his bedroom and slammed the door, his parents begging him to come back.

But Tweek was far from the dramatic type, and even though his parents had done very little in raising him up into the person he was today, they'd at least taught him better than that.

Still, he fucking wished with all his heart that the grand parents he'd never met had at least tried to teach Richard Tweak better.

Or were rolling over in their graves.

Or something.

"U-um, y-you know we n-never talked about t-that yesterday." Tweek added, desperate for a change of subject. Besides, it couldn't hurt to know. Especially considering he'd be home alone within the next week or so. "When are you guys l-leaving?"

Mrs Tweak's hands flew to her face, her mouth drawn open in a perfectly shaped _'o_ '.

Tweek shuddered.

Sure, he wasn't the dramatic type, but his parents sure as hell were.

"Oh Richard, that's right!" Chided Mrs Tweak, slapping herself on the wrist lightly. "How could we have forgotten?"

Seriously, watching his parents interact with himself and each other was like watching an episode of ' _Sesame Street'_ sometimes, when one of the mains messed up and scolded themselves and shit.

Thankfully, Mr Tweak wasn't as bad as Mrs Tweak, but Tweek still couldn't help but feel a little salty as he looked over in his general direction, his eyes unfocused.

He guessed he was thinking about things more important than giving his son his time, like the twenty grand second hand environmentally friendly car he'd seen in the paper, just below an ad for incorporating a more pc friendly environment at home.

"It's just that you went up to bed quite early yesterday, kiddo." He mused, reaching up a hand and scratching his chin. "We just didn't get the time."

Tweek gave a nod.

Thinking back to yesterday, he had turned in pretty early, overwhelmed by the day's events and in dire need of some much wanted rest.

But still, like every other night of his life, his parents had failed to come up and check on him, glued to their t.v as they watched hour after hour of infomercials.

You know, like everyone else's parents did.

You would've thought that after a shit ton of close calls and multiple nervous break downs that the Tweaks would've been keeping a closer eye on their son. At least dropping in on him from time to time, asking him how he was, what was up. Doing their job instead of Councillor Mackey having to do it for them, not a terrible replacement, but still not his own flesh and blood either.

He remember Mackey telling him once that vicious circumstance was supposed to bring people together, to encourage people to fall back on each other and strengthen the bonds between them by reaching out for help.

If anything, Tweek's spiral into anxiety had pushed the entire family apart, not that it had ever been much of a family to begin with.

But hey, silver lining, he was going to be spending the next few weeks with Craig, whatever happened today.

He just needed to get through today, to get through this and to get through Kenny.

And that alone was enough to give him the strength to carry on.

His Mom was speaking now, and it was kind of a relief.

Lately whenever Mr Tweak opened his mouth, Tweek wished for nothing more than for him to just shut up.

"We're on the plane tomorrow evening but need to get to the airport for around seven thirty, hon." Chimed Mrs Tweak, her voice musical like a song. Tweek stiffened as her words sunk in, all the bitter resentment he'd harboured towards his Dad pushed from his mind.

 _Tomorrow_?

 _They were leaving tomorrow_?

That was the _shortest fucking notice_ he'd ever received.

So now they were just gonna hop on a plane to some exotic location and ditch him so soon without a barely decent goodbye?

"I know we should've told you earlier sweetie, but we only booked the trip four days ago." His Mom explained, as if she'd heard his thoughts. "You know how hectic our week is," she laughed, but Tweek couldn't find the humour in her words. He wasn't sure what ' _hectic_ ' constituted to her, but if ' _hectic_ ' meant living out your Monday to Friday wandering _Citipa_ , then she was living on a whole other planet. "But that means you're fine to do whatever you want all day today and all day tomorrow before we head off." She finished with a grin, but Tweek didn't return it.

"If you don't mind, we'd like to have you home before we leave." Added Mr Tweak. "Just so we know you're home safe." _Oh? So now they cared about his safety?_ Tweek found that hard to believe as the newspaper rustled, Mr Tweak turning over a new page. "Invite Craig around for a movie or something." He suggested, peering at him from over the top of his paper. "Craig likes movies, right?"

Tweek gave a nod. "H-he likes _Red Racer."_

Mr Tweak grinned as if that was the greatest news he'd heard in a year. "Ah, a _Red Racer_ fan, huh? I was quite the _Red Racer_ fan myself as a boy." His voice was dripping with pride and it made Tweek feel queasy. He wouldn't have mentioned it if he knew his Dad was going to be so full of himself about it. He watched as he waved a hand in Mrs Tweak's direction. "Write that down, sugar."

Tweek's gaze drifted to his Mom as she pulled a pen out of her front pocket, scribbling something down on her palm.

 _Huh_.

So he guessed the ' _don't-so-much-as-draw-a-full-stop-on-your-hand-or-you'll-get-ink-poisoning-quicker-than-you-can-say-Jennifer-Lopez-loves-tacos_ ' rule only applied to him then.

"You got it, hon." She chirped, clipping the pen on her right breast pocket. She fiddled with her apron, her fingers long and narrow like a spider's. "We need to go out for a few last minute supplies today, so we'll swing by _Blockbuster_ and pick up a copy on the way home."

" _B-Blockbuster's_ been gone for years, M-Mom." Tweek pointed out.

And not just one year, but _six_.

But hey, it's the thought that counts, right?

He might as well try to start viewing his Mom's attempts at being helpful positively, considering they were a daily occurrence and he got the feeling they weren't gonna stop anytime soon.

Mrs Tweek gasped, a hint of realization dawning in her eyes. "Oh, so it has! But don't worry, we'll work out something!"

"In the mean time, what are your movements today, Tweek?" Asked Richard, pulling out a fold up section of the newspaper and squinting at it scrutinisingly.

From where Tweek stood, it seemed to be an add for local Gentleman's Club _The Peppermint Hippo_ , a detailed and criminally elaborate title done up in calligraphy of one of the stripper's names, Classi, with an i and a little dick hanging off of the c that bends around and fucks the l out of the a-s-s, bang in the middle of the page.

Tweek fought the sudden urge to barf, to cough loudly and obnoxiously until his Dad had no choice but to look away from the ad, because even though Tweek knew he'd never dare to show up at such a miserable excuse for a _hole-in-the-wall,_ why the _hell_ was he even looking like he was considering it in front of his Mom?

Not to mention the day before they were about to take off on a luxury couples' holiday.

Sometimes he felt sorry for his Mom, he really did.

In a way, he had to admire her.

Because if he ended up getting married to a steaming bag of shit like his Mom had his Dad, he would've booked it the hell out of dodge a long time ago.

But thankfully, he wasn't married to his Dad, ( _okay, maybe that was the wrong way to word it)_ and his eyes were drilling into him like two rusty screwdrivers waiting for a reply, so it was time to keep the ball rolling and move on anyways. "W-well, C-Craig's still a possibility, but I'm actually going to s-see a school friend at _Tw-Tweak Bros_ today."

He fiddled with his shirt as he spoke, both his parents' eyes trained on him, making him fidget under their conjoined glare.

Alright, maybe he hadn't meant to be so direct and at least try to dance around the truth a little, but Tweek had always been a terrible liar, and even if telling the truth brought down the iron fists of punishment crashing down onto his being, it was still an easier way out than telling a few very illogical, nonsensical choice fibs.

Disregarding what Craig thought.

A few moments passed, each second marked by the faint ticking of the clock above the oven, but to Tweek, each stroke was like thunder. T

he air in the room suddenly seemed _stuffy._

 _Way too stuffy._

 _Hot._

 _Unbreathable._

Like someone had thrown a blanket over him during one of South Park's very rare summers.

Covered him in bubble wrap from head to toe.

Attached weights to his feet and thrown him into _Stark's Pond._

More than anything, the silence alone was crushing.

Why the _fuck_ did they look so surprised?

His eyes darted from Mr to Mrs Tweak's faces wildly, each complete circuit faster and more desperate by the minute.

He hadn't said anything wrong, _had he?_

Tweek lived his life in fear of slipping up and saying the wrong thing and looking like a total idiot, but what the fuck was wrong with seeing a friend from the shit hole he was forced to spend eight hours of his day at for most of the year?

That was normal, _right?_

 _Then why couldn't they quit staring?_

As Tweek's mouth fell open in a voiceless scream, his throat constricting as he readied himself for what would no doubt be the loudest shriek he'd managed in a long time, Richard Tweak raised an eyebrow. "At _Tweak Bros?"_

Tweek stared at his father blankly, void of emotion but a small part of him grateful that he'd intercepted when he did.

He'd been about two seconds away from leaping to his feet and taking to the top of the table and dancing about in a fit of agony, a humiliating show.

He was torn away from the blank planes of his mind as Mrs Tweak's hand found his shoulder.

He screeched in her ear as she spoke, but she didn't seem to mind.

Sixteen years of putting up with it probably made you immune to it, he guessed.

That or it was some kind of Mom superpower, or something.

"You know you don't have to go in when you don't have a shift, right sweetie?" She reminded gingerly, giving him a gentle squeeze.

Tweek knew she was trying to be reassuring, but he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up so speedily, he was sure he was on the receiving end of an electric shock.

But he had to count his losses.

At least they weren't gaping at him like fish out of water anymore.

But he wasn't out of the woods yet.

"Y-yeah," he murmured, a thumb tracing circles on the back of his hand as he spoke, a long time nervous habit. He stopped when he felt Richard's eyes drift to his hands, tucking them away under the table and wincing as his knuckles collided with it's tough mahogany surface with a soft _thud_. "But he said it's r-really important." He finished, nursing his hand.

" _He?_ " Echoed Richard to his right, his Mom seeming to catch onto that little detail too as her grip tightened on his shoulder.

Tweek gulped.

 _Ah yes,_ how could he have forgotten?

That super parental hearing that all Moms and Dads seemed to have, probably having acquired it from some ethereal wizard or something the moment he'd been born.

It was every kid's worst nightmare.

The dreaded selective hearing, being ignored but on your case like flies to shit the moment you said anything that sounded remotely illegal, dangerous, sexual or even slightly ambiguous.

Tweek's parents had always had a knack for it.

If there was a university for selective hearing, Mr and Mrs Tweak would've completed their Bachelor of Arts in it.

Masters at the game, always on the look out for certain keywords from a very exclusive list, a list Tweek wished he had, something he could make a million copies of, studying it until he was master too.

But like everything in his life, little remained unchanged, and he was sure even if he did put in all the effort of tip toeing around his parents and everything he said, ( _and if he was being honest, he'd already spent the last sixteen years doing just that anyways_ ) the list would change by the daily, Mr and Mrs Tweak a sucker for routine.

And today, it seemed the word of the day was _'he'._

But this wasn't exactly a new thing either.

 _'He_ ' had long been in the top three entries on the list since Tweek had ( _been forced to_ ) come out, but that didn't mean it didn't make him jittery as fuck every time they pulled this bullshit.

"Not Craig?" Prodded Mrs Tweak, only adding fuel to the bonfire of anxiety that was burning Tweek up, a brilliant show of quaking shoulders and trembling lips.

Somehow, he'd done it.

He'd done it again and he shouldn't have been surprised.

It'd gotten to the point where he couldn't call it a day if he hadn't dug himself so immensely deeply into these kinds of holes.

Tweek Tweak, top graduate in word barf.

Verbal diarrhoea.

See, he actually had nothing to feel shady about. Like the premonition of meeting up with Kenny was truly horrifying, but was it really against the rules for him to have friends other than Craig who also _happened_ to be guys?

Tweek shook his head wildly in the hopes that it might snap him out of his funk. It didn't help that his parents were studying him, watching him so immensely closely like some exotic insect trapped in an empty coffee jar, that he was sure at any moment they were going to leap to their feet and call him out on every ounce of dishonesty he'd thrown their way since he was two.

His voice cracked and faltered as he talked, not helping his situation. "N-no, someone e-else," he squeaked, his right eye twitching shut as he cried out in dismay. "ARGH!"

Right here. Right _fucking_ here. This was the exact reason why he'd never really bothered with making too many friends growing up.

It was way more trouble than it was worth.

Not to mention his parents were nosy as _fuck_.

He hoped they'd call it a day after that tibit of information and leave it there, he really did.

But today, it seemed, the odds were far from being in his favour.

"Who?" Pressed Mrs Tweak.

Tweek gulped at the lump manifesting dangerously fast at the back of his throat.

' _Backpedal_ ,' he thought in a complete frenzy. ' _Backpedal!_ _Think of someone uncool!'_

"U-um," he stammered, praying to God he sounded half as believable as he wished he sounded. "M-my good friend, K-Kevin St-St-Stoley."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Tweek wrestled with the burning urge to slap himself, the colour draining from his face.

 _For the love of God_ , why was it that whenever he so much as opened his mouth he said the _stupidest_ shit?

Like shit, there was nothing wrong with Kevin, _zero_.

He only knew the guy by appearances and had maybe talked to him once or twice, but he was easy going enough for Tweek to count him as a pretty okay guy, and definitely not deserving of him bad mouthing him when he wasn't around.

He was just glad Kevin wasn't here to hear it, as horrible as that sounded.

He felt guilty enough about trash talking him in his absence.

Unlike his son, Mr Tweak was a simpler creature.

He brought his hands to his chin, clasping them neatly as a frown crinkled his brow. " _Who?"_ He pondered out loud.

" _Star Trek_ kid, darling." Piped Mrs Tweak, always on hand to help.

Mr Tweak's face lit up. "Oh! The Spock fanatic!" He said animatedly with the biggest grin plastered across his face. Tweek sighed. Once again, he wouldn't have said it if he'd known his Dad was a _Star Trek_ fan. He'd wished he'd blurted out Butters' or Stan's names instead. Cartman's even. "You have a good taste in friends, son!" He congratulated luxuriously, as if he was giving Tweek some kind of medal for actually calling someone a ' _friend_ ' for once. It was gross. "What's the big Kev up to these days?"

He didn't even know if his Dad had even seen Kevin face to face, let alone known his name before today.

But still, it was so much easier to play along.

"Oh, y-you know. S-stuff." He made up on the spot, and for once, it didn't sound that unbelievable.

He found his eyes looking up at the clock again for the thousandth time that morning, almost jumping out of his skin in horror as he read the time.

 _9:50 a.m._

That meant he had less than _ten minutes_ to make his way down to _Tweak Bros_ to meet his fate.

His stomach churned.

He wasn't ready.

He'd never be ready, but now was the time to go.

He stood up, his chair falling over with a _clang_ behind him, his parents eyeing him questioningly as he screamed, hands flying to his hair and pulling on it until his scalp burned.

Not so much as throwing a sideways glance at either of his parents, Tweek made a beeline to the lounge room where he knew his bag would be, calling out over his shoulder so his Mom and Dad wouldn't think he was completely crazy.

"I-I gotta go for t-ten, GAH! SWEET JESUS, I'm going to be late!"

He should've seen this coming.

Tweek was late everywhere he went, even when he was ' _prepared_ '.

It would've been kind of cool if his parents had offered him a ride or something, even though he would've adamantly refused, seeing that it was a complete waste of fuel and unnecessary addition of deadly toxic harm to the environment, ( _that would no doubt one day kill them all like a pressure cooker_ ) thanks to the proximity of the coffee house.

Still, it would've been better than his Dad talking over him as he whizzed around, stuffing items here and there into his plain blue backpack, like nothing had happened.

" _Stuff_ , hey?" He parroted as Tweek forced a water bottle into his bag. "I like it! Say hi to him from me and your Mother."

Tweek nodded, rapid fire. "O-okay," he promised, which meant he had zero intention of doing it.

He checked the clock again, the little hand nearing the ten at an alarming pace.

He had some five minutes to get to _Tweak Bros_.

He needed to hurry.

He crammed the last item of absolute importance that'd magically get him through the day, a pack of aspirin, into his right jeans pocket, nothing less than spiriting towards the front door as he patted himself down to make sure he had everything he needed.

His hand shot out to grip the handle, the copper cool against his skin as he spun around to face his parents, their faces unchanged.

Tweek freaking out was just a usual daily occurrence.

He motioned to the door wildly, hitching his bag up on his shoulder. "I-I'm going!" He announced.

Mrs Tweak smiled at him from her seat, her fork and knife poised delicately over a piece of bacon so tiny, Tweek wasn't sure why she didn't just pick it up with her hands and swallow it whole.

"You need us to pick you up anything, sweetie?" She asked.

He knew she wasn't trying to make him run late on purpose, _(or was she?_ ) but he really didn't have time for the six hour goodbye that was common place every other time he left the house.

"N-no, Mom." He prattled, and he sure as hell hoped not. He hadn't really taken the time to even consider it before answering. "M-maybe food?" He threw in as an afterthought, but that was a pretty standard one and he was sure it was already at the top of Mrs Tweak's shopping list, even though he'd probably come home to her unloading bulk containers of ice-cream into their freezer. His eyes scanned the clock. _Four minutes._ It was do-able, but he really needed to get moving. "But I, um, r-really got someplace to b-be!"

Mrs Tweak waggled her perfectly manicured fingers at him. "Alright, honey. Have fun!"

Tweek hesitated.

That'd seemed a little easy.

Too easy.

Usually his parents questioned him to the boondocks, made him fill out a self evaluation sheet and an immigration permission form for permanent residency in Germany every time he left the house.

Giving them one last uncertain look, despite the borrowed time he was already on, Tweek turned the handle and opened the door.

He shivered as the early winter breeze from outside washed over him like an ice bath, billowing straight through him.

He untied the jacket from around his waist that he'd snagged this morning, swaddling it around his being as he ducked his head in reply.

"S-see ya."

He didn't look up as he busied himself with buttoning the jacket up with shaking hands, somehow managing to slip the black discs into all the wrong holes, but he knew his parents had resumed their breakfast, preoccupied with the pan fried mushrooms and the crispy toast that was laid out before them.

Reaching down towards the place mat and picking up his snow boots, Tweek slipped them on unceremoniously, cursing under his breath when he pulled them onto the wrong feet. He hastily switched them over and tapped his heels into place, seeing as the shoes were two sizes too big, despite him having had them three years.

Tweek had never really grown all that much like the other boys, so he guessed his parents' reasoning of ' _you'll grow into them'_ was kind of lost on him.

With a final look at his handiwork, Tweek turned on his heel and faced the wintery landscape outside.

As like any other day in South Park, snow had fallen over night in thick, pillowy marshmallows, an endless collection of hills cutting through the roads that had been carefully salted the afternoon before, the sound of cars here and there coughing to life from down the street.

Tweek sucked in a deep breath as he stepped outside, his boots crunching the slush beneath his feet like glass shards.

He wasn't sure where today would take him, there was no way of knowing, but wherever it did, he just hoped he'd make it to walk back through this door for dinner tonight.

Or Clyde's house, if he so decided. He needed to get on that desperately. He still hadn't texted Craig back.

"Oh and Tweek?" Came Mr Tweak's voice from behind him, shattering the first ounce of pristine silence Tweek had gotten to experience that morning.

He sighed.

Like he'd said, _too easy._

He twisted his body around just enough to glimpse him out the corner of his eye, fiddling with the front pocket of his backpack.

He tried not to catch the clock, knowing it'd only make him anxious, but now he also had the useless information that he had _three minutes_ to go.

"W-what, Dad?" He demanded urgently, really starting to fret.

It better be something important.

 _Life or death important._

But of course not, as was clearly evident when Richard smirked, his left eye flickering shut in a truly grotesque, cheesy wink.

"Kevin's not gay, is he?" He chided wryly, clearly on the brink of some very inappropriate and extremely uncalled for laughter, Tweek sure he would've gagged if a hysterical scream hadn't ripped it's way out of his mouth first.

Eyes squeezed shut, Tweek flinched at the sharp sound of flesh against flesh.

His Mom must've hit his Dad, but from the way Mr Tweak was chortling to himself, it hadn't been that hard.

Never judge a book by a cover.

His Mom could hit.

 _Hard._

"Richard!" She scolded, a second slap ringing out across the kitchen, but this only seemed to amuse Richard more, giving a muffled snort from behind his hand.

Well, Tweek was sure glad his Dad found this all absolutely hilarious.

 _Not_.

Seriously, where did this guy get off making so many jokes about his sexual orientation?

And not for the first time that morning either.

 _Sick_.

He knew he shouldn't pay him any attention, to ignore him and not throw him the spark that would ignite the flames, but the flustered words made their way past his mouth before he had any hope of stopping them.

"W-what?" He groaned, sounding as if he was about to be sick. "D-Dad, n-no! He's just a friend!" Yeah, his Dad was _so_ funny! _What a riot!_ God, he was such a comedic _genius,_ just like _Amy Schumer!_ Not to mention the perfect time waster-er. He looked at the clock and his heart plummeted. _Two fucking minutes till ten?_ He moaned, his head starting to spin at the stress of it all. "I'm, g-g-GAH! I'm going! Jesus Christ!"

"Okay son, have fun!" Richard farewelled between giggles, waving a hand about. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do." He added with another wink, just to rub salt into the wound.

"AGH!" Tweek howled in what was possibly the world's second shittiest goodbye, _(cause let's face it, his Dad's was a million times worse)_ before a thought struck him like a ton of bricks, screeching to a stop in his tracks. "SHIT!" He groaned, whipping back around to face the table. "I-I almost forgot!" Lucky he'd remembered because it was a critical item he seriously couldn't do without. "M-Mom, do we have any _P-Pop Tarts?"_

Mrs Tweak blinked in surprise, a hand fanned across her red mouth. " _Pop Tarts?"_ She repeated. There was something about the way she said it, kind of with a hint of, what was that? _Distaste? "_ I'd sure hope not. _Pop Tarts_ rot your teeth and are full of harmful traces of gluten containing ingredients," she paused, making eye contact with Tweek, who fidgeted under what was possibly the most intense glare she had ever affixed him with, _ever_. "And you know what that means, honey." She concluded dramatically, Tweek reminded of that point of significance in movies when the real threat was revealed in a horrible, theatrical fashion.

"N-no?" Squeaked Tweek.

He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

He had enough delusions about food as it was, he didn't need anymore.

Richard raised a hand, chewing on a slice of mushroom. "They'll make your dick fly off."

Tweek howled. "JESUS CHRIST!"

 _What the actual fuck?_

And he'd said it so _casually_ too?

They _had_ to be messing around with him, they _fucking had to._

Mrs Tweak nodded as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Not that she had anything to worry about.

She wasn't one of the two people in this house who had a dick.

"It's a scientifically proven fact, hon."

 _A scientifically proven fact?_

But according to _who?_

He couldn't get his head around it, he wished she hadn't said anything, left it there for the sake of his sanity.

Just something else to obsess over, add that one to the list.

 _Donuts make your dick fly off._

"O-oh." Tweek muttered, not really knowing what else to say.

But really, taking a moment to think about it, there were a lot of holes in her reasoning.

Like for one, shouldn't that mean they should both get up this instant and bin the toast swimming in butter on their plates?

His Dad was eating it right fucking now, and he knew for a fact that it wasn't gluten free.

Luckily, Mrs Tweak decided it was a good time to change the subject, Tweek liking to have thought because she sensed how uncomfortable he was and not because of a different underlying reason.

That she'd gotten bored, just like with many other things and conversations she'd had to bare witness to throughout her life.

"Are you going to be taking down some sweets for the customers, Tweek?" She asked as pulled herself to her feet, but Tweek knew she wasn't really asking.

His eyes followed her as she made her way to the fridge, catching a sneak peak of trays upon trays of baked goods she'd made throughout the week, some of the ones on the bottom shelf made by him, balancing haphazardly on top of one another.

But there was no denying he'd even hope to get up to scratch with his Mom, a true baking master, making layer cakes and delicious slices since she was a kid, a home raised local celebrity, celebrated for her craftsmanship in the kitchen.

But ' _taking down sweets'_ had always meant taking down some of the extras they couldn't eat themselves down to the cafe, even though there were enough extras and food down at _Tweak Bros_ combined to feed the entire population of South Park ( _including the newbies from Denver_ ) ten times over.

To put it simply, his Mom had _way_ too much time on her hands.

"U-um, sure." Said Tweek with a nod. "A-anything we d-don't need?"

Mrs Tweak selected a tray from the middle shelf, walking over to Tweak and passing him a _9x13_ , covered with plastic wrap.

"Well, it's not that we don't need it, but about these, sweetie?" She motioned to the yellow sweets, cut into perfect squares and dusted with powdered sugar. "Freshly made lemon bars with locally sourced lemons from your friend Benny McConroy's farm." She waved a lavish hand, proud of her work but her shoulders seemed to drop a little, which was the most out of character thing Tweek had seen her do in a long time, considering all she ever went on about was the important of good posture. "Shame they have all purpose flour in the base, though." She said regretfully. "They're super delicious but I can't bring myself to enjoy them whilst worrying my boobs might fly off at any moment."

Tweek cringed to his core, his cheeks blushing a brilliant shade of scarlet red as his hands came up in front of his chest, a living, breathing stop sign.

"M-mom, _t.m.i!"_ The words tasted like bile in his mouth, he couldn't even believe he was having to hear such things. _And boobs?_ Well he guessed there had to be a female equivalent to the gluten problem somewhere. "A-and it's _K-Kenny."_ He corrected after a moment's thought, because as far as he knew, no ' _Benny McConroy_ ' had ever set foot in South Park, not to mention Tweek knew for a fact that Kenny didn't live on a farm.

Maybe she was confusing the McCormick dump with the forever ancient _South Park Barn_ , which had always held a special place in her heart from her youth, the disgusting drunken barn dance nights she and his Dad had attended numerous times still fresh in her mind over twenty years later.

As awful as it was to admit, he was pretty sure that's how he'd been conceived.

He shivered.

Anyways, there was no way he was giving these lemon bars to the customers.

For one, he didn't want customers' dicks and boobs flying around the family coffee house, it was bad for business.

And two, Tweek had been to Kenny's house many a time growing up and that same lemon tree had stood rickety by the side of the garage where Mr and Mrs McCormick made and sold their drugs for as long as he could remember.

It'd been Kenny's job to sell them, hand them over to kids at school and their parents in the car park in the hopes of taking home a few extra dollars at the end of the week.

Kenny's little business had worked a charm too, kids wanting the acidic fruits for weird and wonderful reasons and their parents unable to say no to such a cute, smudged face as he handed them over, a handful of silvers dropped into his outstretched, skeleton like hand.

The townsfolk loved their McCormick lemons, and a little over ten years later, the lemons were once again making a come back, hipsters and the new residents from Denver and the surrounding areas praising it for it's being grown so organically and environmentally friendly, sourced from a simple property from simple people.

And for them to be so _huge_ , so incredibly _juicy._

It was amazing what some natural growing could do, to go back to your roots and grow things right, the way they should be.

With lemons like these, who needed gmos and all those harmful, disease causing chemicals?

Nevertheless, Tweek took the tray from Mrs Tweak's outstretched hands, ducking his head. "T-thanks, Mom." He returned her nod as she smiled from ear to ear, ushering him out the door and wishing him a good day, Tweek trying to avoid looking down at the sugary biohazard perched in his hands.

It was a secret that'd been entrusted to him and would die with him. He was sure the townsfolk would feel very different about their McCormick lemons if they knew the truth.

If only half of them knew Kenny had been pissing on that tree since before he could walk.

But Mrs Tweak, knowing none of the better in her oblivious paradise, smiled. "You're welcome, sweetie."

"Y-yeah." Tweek looked at the clock one last time. It was already ten, but considering now that he was already late, he might as well take his time getting to _Tweak Bros,_ seeing that it wouldn't make much of a difference anyways. Kenny rarely showed up on time. Still couldn't hurt to get out the house though. "I-I r-really gotta go now." He mentioned in goodbye for what felt like one too many times that morning. He stepped over the threshold, more than ready to get out of this godforsaken house, at least for the rest of the day despite what was in store for him. "Bye, g-guys."

Mrs Tweak waved from the table. "Don't let us keep you, hon. See ya!"

"And make sure you're back by a reasonable-" Came Mr Tweak's voice from inside, but Tweek didn't get to hear the rest of his sentence as he shut the door, cringing when the wind added momentum and slammed it closed with finality.

He stood rooted to the spot for a second, straining an ear to listen for sounds of angry voices from within, even though his parents had made it a rule not to get mad at their perfect gay son.

After a few moments and hearing nothing, Tweek faced the road, jumping down the stairs leading from his house to the main road, lemon bars in hand.

He kept his eyes forward, drinking in the first signs of life on his street, kids playing and adults rushing to and fro.

As he set out for _Tweak Bros,_ he wondered if they knew, knew where he was heading and what challenges awaited him, the uncertainty that plagued his head.

He ventured out onto the road, kicking an empty soda can and sending it spinning down the street.

He wondered if they knew that this might potentially be the last day of his life.

 **OoOoOoOo**

 **((Kudos if you reached the end of this _massive_ chapter! A very sincere thank you to everybody who has supported this story thus far and done the hard yards and waited so long between chapters just for me! Consider this a New Years' present for all you guys who make the effort worthwhile!**

 **2018's here and I'm ready to make writing a higher priority for myself, so look forward to some more continuous and regular updates for ' _Closeted_ ' which will continue within the next two weeks with a shiny new chapter for you guys**!

 **Once again, thank you to the ends of the Earth for going out of your way to support me along this endeavour and read the work I pour my heart and soul into! I hope 2018 is already off to a good start for all of you!**

 **See ya in a few days, forever your ' _we-don't-take-kindly-to-making-your-readers-wait-months-for-a-second-chapter'_ friend ~ KennBoKenn.))**


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